


The Restoration

by Jellyneau



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-03-25 22:05:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 65,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3826660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jellyneau/pseuds/Jellyneau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose, a diligent University student, stumbles across a piece of fiction that, unusually, holds many parallels to her own life, including her meeting of a particularly enigmatic and attractive doctoral student, John Smith. Her amusement with the written coincidences turns to fear, though, when she realizes the words written within the bound pages are more than mere fantasy. They are, in fact, symbols containing a dangerous life-threatening prophecy that she and John must overcome if they are to survive. Ten/Rose AU   <a href="http://s1057.photobucket.com/user/Jellyneau/media/Fic%20cover%20pics/The%20Restoration%20Cover_zpsccvacdgu.jpg.html"></a><img/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Library

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my muse's latest offering. Enjoy!

 

The squeak and groan of bouncing bed springs played through the shared wall of their rooms. “Oh, God! Owen! GOOOOD!!!” her flatmate’s only slightly muffled cries echoed through their small flat.

Covering her ears, Rose squeezed her eyes shut. “Jesus, Nat,” she mumbled. She’d been trying to study for this bloody psych exam all evening and so far had had no luck. Before her flatmate had returned from work with her latest conquest, Rose had popped popcorn, poured herself a fizzy drink and had organized her desk into it’s usual pre-study formation. Music low, snacks ready, her desk light shining on the offending books, and a highlighter at the ready. 

The first hour had been fraught with distractions… a particularly hilarious youtube video just happened to be recommended by a friend in her Medieval Institutions class… clearly _that_ couldn’t wait. After that was tended to, she’d run out of fizzy drink, so she’d had to return to the kitchen for a refill, at which time she discovered the dishes in desperate need of washing. Usually she didn’t find kitchen duties particularly pressing, but when the other option was studying, the fact there were dishes waiting suddenly seemed inexcusable. 

Finally, with the plates and bowls tended to, Rose headed back to her room, fully intending to hunker down. No more procrastinating. Despite that fact it was Saturday night and she’d had multiple offers of outings, she’d turned them down in favour of hitting the books. There were only three more days until this stupid exam and she couldn’t chance a mark below seventy-five or she’d be screwed. She’d quit her evening job a few weeks back just to make sure she could spend enough time on her studies. Her scholarship depended on keeping her grades above seventy percent, and didn’t it just serve her right that she had so quickly believed psych would be an easy credit. Nat deserved a short-sheeted bed for that particular suggestion. 

Settling down into her chair, she heard the door to the flat open. “Nat?” she hollered.

“Shhhhh,” she heard from the hall. Shuffling of feet and a stifled giggle met her ears. Moments later, her roomie’s shining face appeared within the doorframe. Her eyes were sparkling, but slightly glazed over. “Hey, Rose,” she smiled widely. “I, uh… I thought you’d be out,” she slurred.

“Nope,” Rose smiled, “studyin’, remember?” she reminded her flatmate, gesturing to the desk full of books. She’d told her her plans earlier today, but it didn’t surprise her Nat had forgotten. Her roommate was a sweet person, but she had about the worst memory of anyone she’d ever met. Everything Rose told her seemed to go in one ear and out the other. It was a wonder the girl was actually passing any classes.

“Oh, right,” she nodded, as if suddenly recalling this bit of information. “Listen… I’ve brought a bloke...uh…” she stopped, looking perplexed. Turning to whomever was hovering just out of view out in the hall, she stage whispered, “What’s your name again?”

“Owen,” a male voice interjected.

“Right.” Turning back to Rose, Nat said confidently, “I’ve brought my friend Owen in to watch movies. That okay?” she asked innocently. 

Rose groaned inwardly. She knew exactly what that meant. Despite that, however, she found herself nodding her ascent. “Yeah, sure,” she agreed. “Just… keep it down, yeah? I’ve got my psych exam on Tuesday and I’ve gotta get some revision in,” she requested.

“No worries,” Nat agreed, holding her hand up in assurance. Turning to ghost man, she said, “Come on, Olly.”

“It’s Owen,” he corrected her before Rose spied him being tugged along by the hand past her door toward Nat’s room.

That had been half an hour ago. Now, as she sat listening to the springs of Nat’s bed protest under their enthusiastic exercise, she wished she’d insisted Nat and her friend go elsewhere to ‘watch movies’. There was no arguing now though. Apparently they were going to be at it for a while and Rose needed to get some actual studying done.

Slamming her books shut, she loaded them into her rucksack and hauled it over her shoulder. Looks like the library was going to be her study spot for the evening.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

Finding her favourite study carrel unoccupied, she slid her bag off her shoulder and onto the desktop where she opened it and hauled out the heavy texts she’d packed. She didn’t mind studying here, nestled among the history books, but she definitely prefered her flat and it’s homey offering of snacks and pjs. Oh well. In reality, her place was just too distracting, even when Nat wasn’t in it getting shagged. She was probably better off here anyhow. 

Setting herself up much like she had at home, sans jimjams and junk food, she settled herself into the chair provided and set to work. After a full hour she pulled her eyes from her text and leaned back. The words were starting to swim before her in meaningless clumps. 

Stretching her arms above her head she arched her back and let out a wide yawn. Slumping back in her chair she looked around her. There were only one or two other die hard students here giving up their Saturday night in the name of academics. Standing to give her legs the same treatment she’d given her arms, she turned and walked along the long line of shelves that had been at her back moments before. 

She’d always loved books. Had since she was a child. She’d always found peace and calm between the covers of them despite what reality was presenting and she’d often been caught reading in a corner somewhere rather than doing her actual homework or house chores. Used to drive her Mum spare. 

Thoughts of her mother spread a blanket melancholy over her. Her Mum had been gone for two years now. Died of cancer. She was only forty-one. It had been a surprise to everyone she knew… they’d had almost no warning that the end was near. The diagnosis was given and literally weeks later she was gone. It had been one of the most difficult times in her life. At least she imagined it had been. She honestly had little memory of that horrid time. Sometimes she wondered if maybe she was suffering from PTSD… or maybe some sort of dissociative disorder (thank-you, Psychology 1005), because even when she tried she found it impossible to drum up any detailed memories about the entire event of her Mum’s passing. All that was left of the event was a terrible, aching blur. 

In some ways, she was thankful for that. She’d lost her Mum at an age that a young woman finally really begins to appreciate what all her mother did for her… what she’d given up so that she’d have a good life. Somehow she knew that having vivid memories of her mother’s passing would make that realization that much more painful. 

Oh, at first she’d been angry. She _did_ remember that. But it hadn’t taken long before that phase passed and the real grief set in. That was when she finally understood how lucky she’d been to have had a mother who did everything she could to bring her up. She’d done it alone, with very little money, and she’d still managed to do a damn good job in Rose’s opinion. 

If there was anything good about the timing of her mother’s passing, she supposed, it was that she was days from her eighteenth birthday when it happened and she’d already been accepted at the Uni and was set to start in mere weeks. She still considered herself lucky that she was more or less ‘of age’ when it happened and she’d been spared having to be placed in care. Her Mum had put away a bit for her schooling, and she’d been able to use that to get her through her studies so far. She’d supplemented her meager inheritance with odd jobs in shops, but it had been tough. Still… she was here. She had no right to complain. Many of her high school mates hadn’t been so fortunate.

Now, as she walked up and down the lines of books, she was jogged from her thoughts by the titles on the spines of the hardcovers she was passing. Pausing, she started more closely examining the offerings on the shelves before her. On Thursday they’d been reminded that a major paper was due in the three weeks in her Rebellions and Revolutions class. Picking up one of the heavier texts, she read the title. ‘The Restoration’. She flipped through the pages, landing on a full page likeness of Charles II. Hmmm. Looking over the next couple of pages she considered doing her paper on him. He seemed a good a topic as any for the essay, and Rose had to admit to always having had a certain interest in the fallandering monarch. 

What had always intrigued her, much more than the King himself, actually, was his wife. To Rose, Catherine of Braganza seemed to be a real heroine of sorts. Despite her likely misgivings and personal wishes, she had pretty much left her family, friends and country to ‘do the right thing’ and marry a King who had quite a reputation as a womanizer. She’d been quite a plain looking woman, and other than her station as a princess, she personally had little to offer the playboy King. The poor woman didn’t even speak the same language as her husband to be. Rose could only imagine the princess’s trepidation over meeting the powerful King who was reportedly quite a looker and a notorious playboy. Not surprisingly, the young woman quickly became enamoured of her betrothed… he was apparently quite a social force and had charisma that pretty much beguiled all the women he met. 

What Rose always found interesting was that despite Charles’ flirty and downright adulterous ways, he was quite passionate about his love for the woman he married and stood by her even when everyone in court was sure the best thing he could do was leave her. It was a bizarre sort of devotion he had for her and Catherine loved him with all her heart even though he’d insisted on quite openly doting on his mistresses.

The fleeting image of a royal mistress, dressed in a cream and gold ballgown played before her, bringing with it a palpable feeling of jealousy. That poor queen must’ve ached inside when she saw the man she loved fawning over some bint, Rose mused.

Cradling the text in her arm, she trailed her hand along the spines of the other books as she walked slowly past them. She stopped a few texts along to pull out a particularly large volume sporting the title ‘Charles II - The Restoration Defined’. Well that pretty much summed up her paper in one volume, didn’t it? Opening it up, she leafed through it. Looked like she was taking out a few books tonight. 

She was about to turn back to return to her study carrel when she noticed a small, thin book tipped over where she’d removed the larger one moments ago. For no particular reason, she reached out and picked it up. 

‘The Restoration: A Romance’. The author’s name was scrawled in gold letters across the brown leather cover; _J. H. Beauchesne_. Interesting title. Maybe it was a romance centred around Charles’ romantic conquests. Intrigued, she slid it on top of the larger books she’d acquired. Why not. She could do with some lighter reading about the topic. It’s not like she actually had to _study_ or anything.

Still examining the cover of the smaller book, she turned, took a few unsurveyed steps and walked straight into a narrow but firm male chest. The book she’d been studying clattered to the ground as she looked up...way up... to find a slightly amused, dark eyed bloke looking back at her. 

“Oh my god… I’m so sorry… I didn’t see you there,” Rose said, feeling her cheeks flush.

“No problem,” he assured her before bending down to scoop up the fallen book. “I must’ve been in ‘stealth mode’ there. Hardly your fault,” he added as he stood again and handed her the small leather bound novel. She hadn’t really had a chance at first to get a good look at him, but now, a couple steps back from the body she so brazenly walked into, she was able to really take him in. If she had to give one word to describe him, she’d definitely have to admit he was fit. He was thin, but she wouldn’t necessarily think him skinny. He had a head full of chestnut hair that stood in a tousled frenzy upon his head and he actually sported sideburns, which she found oddly sexy. He was a bit older than the average student, she guessed, putting him maybe in his late twenties. 

“The Restoration. Great topic, that,” he nodded toward the books she’d once again stacked in her arms. “I’m more of a Renaissance man, myself,” he shared with a decidedly foxy smile.

“Um… yeah. Restoration. I’m doing a paper...” she said, trailing off. Mentally she slapped herself on the forehead. Of course she was doing a paper. Why else would she be pulling out texts at this time of night? _’Just doing some light reading on 17th century British history…’_.

He merely grinned and held up his own book. “Me too,” he grinned. “Renaissance, though, like I said,” he reiterated, waggling the book. 

“I like Renaissance history. I did the Intro to the Renaissance course with Luckman last year,” she shared.

“Really?” he said, clearly excited by the information. “That’s the one I’m taking,” he shared. “What did you think of him?”

“Oh… I don’t know,” she started. Then then she thought about the question for the moment and was suddenly at a complete loss. “I, uh… I guess he was okay,” she hesitated, feeling slightly unsettled. 

“Yeah… I sort of feel the same way,” he agreed. “Not the most animated professor I’ve ever had. Still. It’s a nice change from astronomy,” he added.

“You’re an astronomy major?” she asked, suddenly aware that she was tilting her head and had begun twirling her hair with her free hand. Blatant flirting behaviour. Her psych prof would be impressed at her level of self awareness.

“Yeah,” he answered. “Doing my Doctorate, actually,” he shared, tugging his ear. “Always had an interest in history, though. Thought I’d try to round out my education a bit,” he explained. “What’s your major?” he asked.

“History,” she said, nodding her head down toward the book she was carrying. “I’m not doing any astronomy courses, though, so I’m afraid you have me at an advantage,” she smiled, trapping the tip of her tongue between her teeth.

The bloke’s eyes slid down to where her tongue was caged, and she was pretty sure she didn’t imagine a little distracted pause before his eyes found hers again. Suddenly finding his voice again, he inserted, “I’m John, by the way. John Smith.”

The name seemed… incomplete to her, but sent shivers down her spine in the most delicious fashion nonetheless. “I’m Rose,” she replied, smiling demurely. “Rose Tyler.”

“Nice to meet you, Rose,” John said with mock formality. 

“Likewise,” she said smiling widely. 

They stood there for a few seconds just sort of… smiling some more, before the silence began becoming obviously awkward. They were both seemingly hesitant to part, but not familiar enough to continue their impromptu interaction without a more obvious reason. “Well… I suppose I should probably…” Rose finally gestured toward the carrel.

“Oh! Uh… Yeah. Me too. History and all that,” he agreed, nodding seriously. 

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” Rose broached, hoping she didn’t sound desperate or anything.

“Yeah… that’d be brilliant. See you around then,” he affirmed, nodding amiably as he backed away slowly. Just when she thought he might actually trip over a chair looming behind him, he tossed her a toothy grin and turned, disappearing around one of the rows of books.

Turning back to her carrel, she savoured the giddy squirming in her stomach for a moment. Attraction was such a bizarre thing, she mused. It was so odd how with some people there really was a sort of electric energy that somehow called out to your own. She was pretty sure she hadn’t misread his interest in her, either.

Sighing, she plopped down the books she’d been cradling and settled into her chair again, leaning over to find the paragraph she’d left off at in her revision. It was only ten minutes later that she finally gave up. There was no way she was going to be able to study anymore tonight. Not with a foxy astronomy student clouding her thoughts. 

Heaving out a deep breath, she gathered her things to head for the front desk to check out the books she’d found. Tossing a look back at the carrel she’d been occupying, she found her stomach flopping at the thought that she’d likely be spending a _lot_ more time there in the next few days in the hopes that she might run into a certain ‘John Smith’ again. Purely by accident, of course.


	2. The Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter two! Thank-you SO much for your enthusiastic support of the first chapter… I’m really grateful for your comments and follows. Enjoy!

### The Restoration : Chapter 2 - The Beginning

Unlocking the door to the flat, Rose was met by silence. Flipping the light on, she looked down to find Nat’s shoes along with a pair of size 10 men’s trainers discarded by the door. He was still here, then… Owen or Olly, or whatever he was called. Well at least they were done shagging, Rose mused thankfully.

Moving to the kitchen, she poured herself a cup of water and drank it down in one long pull. The library was dusty and dry and always left her thirsty. A little flutter in her belly reminded her (yet again) why the library left her thirsty for more than water this time round. Thoughts of John’s deep brown, soulful eyes shining brightly down at her as he shared his enthusiasm for her chosen field of study played in her mind. 

Sighing mentally, she chastised herself for not being more brave. She really should’ve gotten his number or given him hers. How hard would that’ve been? _‘Listen… I could maybe help you with your revision for Renaissance class if you ever need a hand. Here’s my number in case you ever need it.’_

That might’ve worked. Oh well. Now she’d have to make sure she spent more time in the history section of the library just in case he decided to maybe seek her out. Either that, or she’d have to make sure to wander through the astronomy section a few times a day. 

Mulling over how she might do this and not look like a creepy stalker, she put the glass in the sink and turned to trudge off to the loo. She robotically went through the motions of her evening ablutions, and before long she was crawling between her sheets. Turning off her bedside light, she turned on her side and hugged one of her pillows to her chest as she always did, squirming a bit as she adjusted her arm so it slid nicely between the pillow and the cool sheets below. Closing her eyes, she worked on relaxing for a while, but found sleep elusive. Thoughts of a tall, handsome bloke flitted behind her closed lids, making her insides ignite with hormonal energy. 

Bollocks. 

Reaching out, she turned her light back on. She needed a distraction. She wasn’t going to be able to fall asleep with a six foot tall, trim bloke flirting with her in her imagination.

Checking out her nightstand, she remembered she’d finished her latest trashy novel. Damn. Her rucksack sat on her desk chair, though, and she suddenly recalled the book she’d checked out earlier. Sliding out of bed, she pulled it from her bag and jumped back in bed between her now warm sheets. 

The book was leather bound, which she’d noticed earlier, but she hadn’t really considered how unusual that was at the time. How many books were actually encased in leather nowadays. How old was this thing, anyway?

In an effort to find some identifying information about this publication, she opened the front cover looking for the copyright date. There wasn’t one. In fact, there was nothing printed on the first page but the title of the book along with the author’s name, J.H. Beauchesne, scrawled in black ink. Well, that was odd. What kind of book was this, anyway? 

Turning the page, she was surprised to find the first page of the first chapter written in beautifully penned letters. She’d thought perhaps the title page had been purposefully handwritten to give the book an authentic feel, but now it seemed this publication was becoming more of a mystery than she’d anticipated. Why wasn’t it in some sort of protective archive or something, though, she wondered. Surely a handwritten copy of a book was worth a lot of money. And clearly, this was old. The pages actually had an odd texture that she’d never come across before, probably because the paper was so weathered.

Nestling her head further into the pillow she began reading. 

__

**_Chapter One - The Beginning_**

_There is scarcely a time when I didn’t wonder where exactly I was from. An odd thought, really. Where was anyone really from? Do we come from our parents? Are we born of our society? Our country? Or are we born of something larger? Something more… cosmic?_

_A lofty question. But I’m hardly a lofty soul, so I’ll spare you the deeper thoughts for now and share the base story of my life. The life of a simple girl with an incredible future._

_Firstly, I’ll start with my name. My mother once told me that my father named me. He apparently vowed that I was the most beautiful baby he had ever laid eyes on and that I deserved a name that reflected the beauty I embodied. He wanted a name that would also encapsulate his determination that I rise above my station. I was therefore named after the climbing flowering plant known for its beauty and fragrance; Jasmine._

Jasmine. Flipping back to the front cover, Rose reread the author’s name. J.H. Beauchesne. Was this an actual handwritten autobiography? The penned life of some woman who actually lived back in the 1600’s? Wow. Suddenly even more interested in reading on, Rose continued.

_I was born of a humble inventor and a personal maid. After my birth, I was transported to a modest home free of frivolous trappings. That’s not to say I wanted. My parents made sure I never lacked clothing, food or shelter as an infant. And while I am personally unable to recall it, I’m sure I never wanted for affection either. To say I was born to a poor family would be a gross misrepresentation of my lot. My family was rich in all the ways that were important. I think it’s fair to say we were happy._

_We were, that is, until the fateful day that was instrumental in shaping my life. That day in the church. The day of the darkness. The day my father gave up his life so that we might live._

Rose shuddered. Well, this certainly wasn’t what she’d imagined a romance might begin like, but she was intrigued nonetheless despite the ominous atmosphere of it so far. 

The story went on to describe a very dark episode in this protagonist's life. One in which powerful, seemingly supernatural forces almost destroyed the town and very nearly the entire earth. The horrid events that occurred had been heralded as the ‘devil’s work’, and each catastrophe caused devout worshippers to question every belief they had. The event was one they’d speak about in hushed tones for years to come. The storyteller, she learned, was one of the survivors of that day. 

_It seems I was more important to the world than ever would be expected of a pauper’s daughter. Certainly, while my own parents had high hopes for me, the world at large surely hadn’t expected greatness from me. I was but another child… a female one, at that...born of working class parents in a place where such things as loyalty and family didn’t hold the same kind of weight as money and power. Still… there was more for me out there. Somewhere, beyond the world seen by mere mortal eyes, there was a plane of existence that called my name… that knew I was destined for more. That knew I would one day become the defender of the earth._

Rose’s grainy eyes studied the last lines of the chapter. _’I was destined for more.’_ A sort of longing skittered through her on reflection of the words. Wouldn’t it be nice to know that life had more in store for you before it actually came to pass instead of just hoping and wondering if the future held some rich experiences and exciting adventures? 

For a moment she imagined how she might have lived her life differently so far if she’d known all along that this was just some sort of warm-up act before the main performance. Closing her eyes, she considered it. She’d probably have lived her life pretty much the same way, really. Here she was, a University student… already leaps and bounds ahead of where her mother had ever thought she’d be. Much like the family in the novel, she’d grown up with only the essentials and little else. She’d also lost her father as a youngster and had no real memories of him. Still… she was making something of herself despite where she came from and the recent death of her mother. She’d struggled and managed to get this far and that was something to be proud of.

Not surprisingly, her thoughts circled once again to the handsome bloke from the library. She wondered what sort of life he’d had so far. He looked quite put together, but then, he’s been wearing a University hoodie and jeans like most of the campus population. The kit didn’t say much about his background. Still… he was clean shaven. His hair had just the right amount of muss to it… obviously coiffed to look exactly as messy as he’d intended. Yeah… he was a pretty ‘together’ kind of bloke. And a doctoral student. He’d have to be brilliant as well. Fit and brilliant. 

Once again, her stomach did a little flip flop.

Growling, she looked at the clock. Blimey… it was already 1:00 a.m. . She _had_ to stop thinking about him or she’d never fall asleep. _Then_ how attractive would she look, schlepping her way through the astronomy library with planet sized bags under her eyes. 

Sliding the book onto the nightstand, she reached over and clicked off the light. Flipping over onto her back, she closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind. Easier said than done, she thought ruefully as her mind whirred despite her desire for it to just _relax_ , already. Determined to win this battle over her overactive neurons, she decided to go through the mental relaxation exercises her mum had taught her years ago to cope with school stress. If her body wasn’t going to go to rest willingly, she was going to force it to. 

She started by focusing on her breathing and then began doing a mental inventory of her body. _Think of your toes. Feel how heavy they are. Now imagine your feet themselves are leaden… gravity is pulling them down and you’re powerless to fight the relaxing force._ The inner dialogue continued for a long while and just as she began to nod off, an image of her mysterious astronomer once again intruded into her thoughts. This time he was smiling down at her and a dark blue sky served as the backdrop to him and a curtain of bright stars. He seemed to emanate enthusiasm for life and in her almost dream he seemed to exude a sort of ancient power. In her mind the intensity of his gaze increased until he seemed to be seeing right into her soul. 

_’Something’s in the air...’_ he said, his eyes brimming with promise, his gaze never wavering. Tears sprang to her eyes for no reason she could fathom, and without warning, a jolt of anxiety shot through her making her sit bolt upright in her bed. 

The air around her was thick and difficult to pull into her lungs and she stared wildly into the dark of the room. After a moment, the panic began to dissipate. It was a dream. Only a dream.

Clicking on her bedside lamp, she took in the room again just to assure herself that the world was as it should be. It was, as far as she could tell just by looking at it. 

Flopping back onto the her back, she heaved out a huge breath. She was truly never going to fall asleep tonight.


	3. The Cafe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which our heroes 'just happen' to cross paths again...

### The Restoration : Chapter 3 - The Cafe

John sat in a carrel in the history section of the old library, trying not to look completely out of place. He usually spent most of his waking hours in the astronomy building, but the last couple of days he’d decided he should maybe expand his knowledge of the Renaissance. That, and, if he was only a tiny bit honest with himself, he was rather desperately hoping to run into that blonde with the adorable blush again. It wasn’t completely ‘stalker-y’... he _was_ taking the class after all. It wasn’t like hanging out here was completely creepy. Or needy. Or obvious. Much.

He’d met her… Rose… two nights ago and since then he’d scarcely been able to think of much else. There was just… something about her. If it didn’t sound kind of schmaltzy, he’d say there was a sort of magnetism between them. It was like she spoke to something soul deep inside him. Of course… she spoke to much less lofty parts of him as well, but he was actually sure there was much more to the attraction than that. 

He knew this entire, rather surprisingly intense interest in this girl was a bit over the top given he’d only just met her. He understood that. He’d only spoken to her for a few minutes and the conversation was hardly earth shattering. Still… he’d never actually felt such a palpable attraction to anyone so quickly before. Or… _ever_ before.

Anyhow, he’d spent a good part of yesterday afternoon here and then had an evening class last night, so he figured he’d missed her appearance because of that. If she’d made one, that is. There was really no way of knowing if she regularly spent time in the library or if her visit the day before had been a ‘once in a blue moon’ sort of event. Now, sitting leaned back in a chair with his feet up on the table, leafing through one of the five or six Renaissance texts he’d randomly picked off the shelves, he really hoped it wasn’t. He rather needed to see her again… if for no other reason, than to assure himself that she’d been real and not just some testosterone induced figment of his imagination.

If she had been, it really wouldn’t be much of a surprise, he mused. The last time he’d actually shagged anyone was… was… Gods… it must’ve been ages ago. He couldn’t even clearly remember it, for heaven’s sake. The fact he’d not brought anyone back to his place this year had not been lost on his housemates either. In fact, the three of them made sure to point out his lackluster love life every opportunity they got. Bunch of arses. Just because he didn’t go around trying to bed every twenty year old on campus didn’t mean he was celibate, as they’d not so eloquently said more than a few times now. He was simply… particular. And he had bloody _standards_. Every girl grew up to have woman bits. Not all women grew up to have brains. He prefered the women he dated to have both. Ideally, the woman he’d end up with would actually have a fantastic heart as well. Maybe his standards were too high. They certainly were according to the neanderthals he roomed with. He really didn’t think they were, though… his standards being too high, that is. His housemates were definitely neanderthals.

His thoughts skipped back to Rose. He knew she was smart. That part was evident. She was doing a history degree, and he knew from experience that you couldn’t be a slouch and do well in those classes. She definitely had the ‘woman bits’ part down… in fact, the woman bits he actually managed to observe through the fitted pink tee and snug jeans she wore were definitely… er… womanly. Deliciously so, if memory served. 

His memories translated into more vivid thoughts… imaginings… and those, in turn, led to stirring in his nether regions, making him shift in his seat to better accommodate. 

“John?”

Startled, he squeaked out a very unmanly sound, practically jumping out of his seat. Looking up and to his left, he found the very object of his thoughts smiling down at him. “Oh! Uh… Hi! Rose, right? Sorry - I didn’t see you there,” he exclaimed a bit too enthusiastically, dropping his feet from the table top. 

Rose laughed, apparently amused she’d elicited such a happy greeting from him despite his initial shock. “No, _I’m_ sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” she apologized, placing her hand on his shoulder. 

Her touch, while through layers of clothing, sent sparks of electricity through him. “Oh, no worries. I’m just… I was a bit lost there for a bit,” he admitted, purposefully not offering any insight into the nature of his musings.

Settling down into the carrel a couple over from his, Rose unpacked her bag. “Working on a paper?” Rose inquired, eying the book still open on his lap.

Looking down, he had to remind himself what book he’d actually been pretending to read. “Oh… uh, yeah. It’s not due for a while yet, but you can never be too prepared,” he said smoothly. 

“That’s true,” she said, a small smile finding her lips. 

“What about you? How’s your paper coming?” he asked, nodding toward her pile of books.

“Well, I can actually concentrate on it now that my psych exam is over,” she shared. “I was hoping to actually start writing it tonight.”

“Oh, yes? Well, that’s inspiring. I was just gonna read some more, but now I may actually have to make notes so I feel productive,” he said, waggling his eyebrows as he reached down into his own bag to pull out a notebook and a pen. “Wouldn’t want you thinking I was a slacker,” he suggested.

Rose laughed. “Yeah… somehow I think astronomy isn’t much of a slacker program.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised. One bloke in my Stellar Atmospheres class last year spent most of his time sleeping through it. Still passed. Bloody genius, though. Maybe not quite as gifted as myself, perhaps, but close,” he reflected. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw her brows rising. “Oh… that was rude, wasn’t it?” he chastised himself verbally before she got a chance to do it herself. “Sorry. I’m not bragging or anything. I’m actually quite brilliant at pretty much anything science-y. It’s a curse,” he grinned.

The almost concerned look she’d been dawning morphed into to full out laugh. “Well no one would mistake you for modest,” she laughed. 

His own chuckle added to her laughter. “Yeah, I suppose not,” he smiled, absently pulling at his ear.

“I’m actually pretty brilliant as well,” Rose smiled, her tongue darting out between her teeth in a patently sinful way.

His own smile faltered as his gaze drifted down to become tangled with her tongue. “Oh, yes?” he said, trying to keep his voice even as his overactive imagination suddenly catapulted him to a place where her tongue was much busier and much closer to him than it was in reality.

“Yup. I’m brilliant at reading people,” she said, letting the words hang in the air, her eyes twinkling. 

He swallowed thickly, “Really?” he said, his voice much higher than he’d like it to have been. He definitely hoped she hadn’t been reading him just then.

“Mmm hmm. Take you, for instance,” she started, trailing her eyes down from his to rake over his entire form and back up again. The twitch he’d felt earlier in his trousers began to make itself known once again.

“Okay,” he said, his tone almost wistful. He quickly cleared his throat and revised the comment though before she could misconstrue it (or rather, correctly construe it) and said, “What about me?” he challenged with mock seriousness.

“Weeellll,” she sang, her eyes narrowing as she seemed to seriously consider him. “You’re brilliant, as you’ve so modestly pointed out,” she said, a corner of her mouth lifting. 

“So far you’re spot on,” he admitted, nodding his approval.

Her smile lifted further. “You don’t have any pets. You have flatmates. But you pretty much think of them as animals. Some of them, anyway,” she grinned.

“What? You’ve been spying on me!” he accused, working to look suspicious. “Either that, or you’ve met my housemates,” he stated.

 

Rose looked smug with his admission of her correct assessment so far. Seemingly bolstered by her success, she continued, “You’re… you’re a bit of a loner. You like spending time with people… you care about people… about their welfare. Deeply, I think. But you don’t let people in easily,” she posited. “How’m I doin’?” she asked.

She was doing stunningly. She pretty much had defined him so far. I mean… he didn’t necessarily consider himself to be Mother Theresa in his consideration of others, but he _did_ care a lot about justice. He cared a lot about equality and human rights. And she was definitely right about him being guarded when it came to letting people get close. 

“Oh… and you like jam. A lot,” she added before he could answer her question.

He was sure his eyebrows flew straight up into his hair. Okay, now _this_ was just getting…

Rose laughed. “You’ve got…” she giggled, waving her finger in the general direction of his collar.

Looking down he spied a small purple blob decorating his blue jumper. Rose laughed even more as he regarded the stain with slight horror. Oh well… at least he made Rose smile. That alone was worth the humiliation.

“Right,” he smiled lopsidedly, licking his thumb to try to wipe off the offending smear. “So you’re not just brilliant, you’re observant as well,” he acknowledged.

“I like to think so,” she grinned.

Having no luck at removing the grape jelly from his clothing, he abandoned the project. He supposed he should probably let her study. He would much rather be snogging her senseless, though. 

What? Where did that thought come from? Oh yeah… hormones. Tamping those down a bit, he regretfully said, “I guess I should let you get to it, yeah? I don’t want to keep you from your paper.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess,” she said, looking a bit disappointed.

“Or, uh… listen, I wonder…” his mouth was suddenly saying without his express permission, “maybe we could go for coffee? Or something? You know… if you want.” Desperately hoping he hadn’t read her signals wrong, he began self-consciously rubbing the back of his neck.

Rose’s face lit up but quickly dulled as she looked back at the pile of books in front of her. 

“Or… you know… maybe not. We could, uh… maybe some other time,” he quickly amended. Of course she didn’t want to go right now. She’d come here for a reason, after all.

Then, shaking her head decidedly, she began loading her books back in her bag. “Actually… I’d love to go for coffee,” she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “It’s been too long since I gave myself a break,” she explained when he looked a bit unsure, “and I deserve one,” she smiled.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

The cafe was busy, as usual. It was on campus, so it was populated at all times of the day and night, it seemed. Finding a booth, Rose and John slid into it with their beverages. Rose had settled on a tea and John actually went for the coffee he’d originally suggested.

They’d chatted all the way to the shop about school, classes and their flatmates. John shared that he was actually slightly amazed he’d ever decided to move in with the lot he roomed with, as they couldn’t be much more different from him. He admitted that sometimes he felt as if they’d just been randomly thrown together by a lottery of some cosmic sort.

Rose snorted. She knew exactly what he meant. She and Nat were much the same. Nat wasn’t really serious about her schooling and spent a good deal of her time partying while Rose tended to overthink things and occasionally took life too seriously. That didn’t mean she didn’t have a sense adventure. She did. At least she liked to think she did. 

They swapped stories about profs and John shared a bit about the subject of his thesis, and if Rose was truthful, she only actually understood a portion of what he’d said about it. He really _was_ a genius, she decided as the evening progressed. He seemed to know a lot about almost every topic they discussed and while he had professed his brilliance earlier, he actually wasn’t pompous about the fact he knew so much. His intelligence was just a fact, and he didn’t seem to be eager to rub it in people’s faces. He just legitimately got excited about sharing bits of information and she couldn’t help but feel excited listening to him talk about what he knew.

After what seemed like only a few minutes, Rose looked outside to find the sky filled with stars. “Oh my gosh. It’s already dark!” she observed, looking at her watch. It was eleven. “Oh, god. I should really get going,” she admitted reluctantly. “I’ve got an 8:30 class and I actually have to sound intelligent in it,” she said ruefully.

“Oh, I doubt you’ll have any difficulty with that, as brilliant as you are,” John said confidently. 

Rose felt herself blush a bit. “Yeah, well… tell that to Professeur McInally. She has no patience for tired brains.”

Getting up, they left the cafe and stood out front, enjoying the breeze on their faces. “Where do you live?” John asked, looking around.

“I’m not far. Just on Churchill Street,” she shared. “How about you?” she asked.

“I’m just past Churchill on Barrymore. Looks like we can walk together,” John offered, looking down at her with hopeful eyes.

“I’d like that,” Rose admitted, aware she’d given him a blatantly flirty smile along with the comment. 

They began walking, and Rose wasn’t sure, but he seemed to be walking rather slowly and she hoped it was on purpose… maybe to spend a bit more time with her? If she, herself, was perhaps dragging her feet a bit, she would have to admit that that was _her_ motivation. 

They were about a block from her place when she felt his hand tentatively slip into hers as they walked. She was pretty sure every nerve ending she had sung the Halleluiah chorus with his touch, and a decidedly giddy dance erupted in her stomach. She must’ve reacted physically somehow, because he looked down and offered her a bit of a nervous smile. “This okay?” he checked.

Biting her lip, she admitted, “Better than.” A beaming smile lit his features and she found herself suddenly wishing she had the courage to just stop him in the middle of the sidewalk and plant a fierce snog on those incredible lips. She didn’t, of course, but she still wished.

All too soon, they were at the doors to her building. Taking a deep breath as they stopped, she verbally launched. “John… I had a really good time tonight,” she blurted. God. That sounded a bit intense. “I mean… thanks for inviting me to take some time off. I’m glad I did,” she elaborated.

“My pleasure. I’m not sure it’s a good thing that I managed to convince you to skip out on your work, but I’m happy you did,” he shared. 

Their hands were still joined and neither of them seemed anxious to part. They stood there in the evening air for a bit longer before she suggested, “I should probably go in.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

Neither of them moved.

After another few moments, Rose gently extracted her hand from his. “Yeah, well… thanks again,” she said, turning toward the door.

“Rose…” John called, as she pulled out her keys, “I, uh… maybe I could call you? Sometime? We could… I don’t know… we could maybe go out. For supper or something?” he suggested, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.

Feeling her face nearly split with the smile that found her features, she answered, “I’d love that. I… um, I’ll give you my number,” she suggested practically.

“Oh yeah. Right,” he said, pulling out his phone. “Okay, go ahead.” Giving him her number, she watched as he dutifully keyed in the numbers. 

That done, he held up his phone, as if showing her evidence of his conviction to call her. Smiling, she turned back to the door and let herself in. Pulling it closed behind her, she looked back through the glass door and found him still standing there, looking after her. Giving him a little wave and a tongue touched smile, she turned around and headed further into the building, her mind and body humming with excitement. 

 

OoOoOoooOooOooO

 

It was half twelve and Rose had finally settled into bed. Despite her intentions to hit the pillow as soon as she got in, she found she was far too keyed up to even consider actually trying to sleep right away. 

Lying for a moment, looking up at the ceiling, she let her thoughts drift to John. A soft sigh escaped her without her even knowing it. God he was gorgeous. And not just that. He was… perfect. And he wanted to call her! Giddiness welled up in her again, further distancing her from sleep. 

Turning her head to look at the clock once again, she spied the novel she’d started last night. Oh yes… the autobiographical ‘romance’. Reaching out, she scooped it up and opened it to the last page she’d managed to get through last night. Turning onto her side, snuggling a pillow against her chest, she tried to focus her attention on the book instead of a tall, slim male and began reading.

The story continued where it left off by filling out the early years of the author… the girl who’d survived the near end of the world in the last chapter. She spent a good deal of time going through her rather average childhood, focusing a lot on the hardships her mother had faced without a partner to raise her child with. 

Those parts truly tugged at Rose’s heartstrings. Her own mother had likely encountered many similar experiences trying to raise her by herself. It must’ve been difficult, she mused, trying to bring up a youngster on one meager salary. Still, the book made a point of highlighting the general obliviousness the girl had when it came to understanding how very near poverty they were. The girl, Jasmine, had grown up without an inkling about what hardships her mother faced, which was probably for the best, Rose mused. She’d been raised similarly… her mother had done her best to protect her from the stigma of their position in society, and she was sure that was at least partly why she’d never felt she was beneath being able to go to university. Her mother never underestimated her abilities. 

The writing wasn’t the most engaging, but the writer was a good story teller and Rose found herself engrossed in the book and the similarities between her life and the life of the young Jasmine. It was the beginning of the next chapter, though, that fully captured her attention and actually disquieted her. The coincidences between her life and Jasmine’s life so far had been interesting, but not really unsettling. This, though… this was, well… it was actually a bit eerie.

 

_’There are only a few things in a young woman’s life that can really rewrite her future. Many of those are positive, like a marriage. Others may be positive or negative depending on the situation… having a child, for instance. Others… well, there are those experiences that are uncontroversially negative that can change the course of one’s life in an instant. One of those is the death of a mother.’_

 

Rose nearly dropped the book on reading the words. Could the author’s mother have actually died young as well? This was getting a bit much now, as far as she was concerned. This… Jasmine… her father died when she was little, she’d grown up poor with a single mother, and then her mother died when she was a barely out of her teens? It was almost a cruel coincidence. 

Reading on despite herself, the next words pushed themselves into her consciousness.

 

_’My mother… the person who nurtured me, encouraged me and challenged me… was gone. They told me it was an illness. One that consumed a person from the inside out. It was only when this was told to me that I was able to look back and see the signs that had been laid out for me over the last few months. Signs that my mother hadn’t been well. Ones I had been completely unwilling to see. Ones my mother had done her best to hide._

 

A dart of grief struck straight through Rose’s heart. Her own mother’s denial of her condition had been one of the reasons Rose hadn’t noticed her condition earlier. 

 

_Sitting there, by her hospital bed at the tender age of eighteen, I held her lifeless hand and willed her to come back. I sat there for a long time. Ages, it seemed. I would not be moved. It was only when I was assured beyond all doubt that my prayers were not going to be answered, that I finally released her hand and laid it across her chest._

_Such an experience changes a girl. Changes her from being a child at heart to being a grown-up in mere moments. It’s an impossible transition, but one that either gets taken on or abandoned in favour of self pity. I was never one to give in… to give up… when faced with impossible situations. This was an impossible situation. And that was when I decided I had to go on. I had to look ahead. I had to strive to be more. For her sake, and for mine. She’d wanted me to make something of myself… to be more than what the world expected of me. I wouldn’t let her down. I didn’t let her down.’_

 

A hot tear trailed down Rose’s cheek as she read, and a wet sniffle followed. The similarities to her own experience with her Mum were painfully uncanny. Bloody hell. She’d been hoping for some light reading before bed and instead had managed to tear at a barely healed wound. 

 

_’That’s when I decided to prove myself to her. To myself. To the world. Not a week following my mother’s passing, I headed out to begin my life as an adult. I was not going to be a dependant any longer. I was a woman now, with responsibilities. I was going to make history. One way or another, I was going to influence the future of this planet. Be it in a small way or in a way that would change the fate of not just the earth, but the universe.’_


	4. The Night Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a wee bit graphic on the sexy side... but don't get your hopes up too much yet! The story is still young! *muse wrings hands and cackles*

### The Restoration : Chapter 4 - The Night Before

It was two in the morning before Rose finally put her book down and felt tired enough to drop off. Her alarm went off not long after that and she’d hit snooze so many times she’d barely had enough time to throw her hair into a messy pony and pull on a pair of old sweatpants before scrambling out the door.

Now, as she sat huddled in a seat in the lecture theatre nursing a steaming cuppa, she found herself desperately hoping that the professor wasn’t planning a pop quiz or anything similar. She honestly wasn’t sure her brain was up for anything quite that strenuous today.

“Hey, Rose,” a woman’s friendly voice chimed from beside her. Looking over, she found a woman with ginger hair and freckles settling in the chair beside hers. She was a regular in this class, Rose was pretty sure… she’d seen her before, but she was positive they’d never been introduced. 

“Oh, my god… I barely got through the reading last night for this morning,” the girl continued, as if they chatted on a regular basis. “But that serves me right for leaving it til the last minute again, as always,” she muttered, pulling books out of her rucksack. “Did you get it all done?” she asked, the woman’s hazel eyes finding her own.

Rose sat for a moment looking back at the girl. Who _was_ this person? She had called her by name… was talking to her like a mate. Could it be that Rose had met her before and just didn’t remember? “Sorry… what’s your name again?” 

The girl looked at her like she had three heads. “Bloody hell, Rose. Did Nat take you out and get you hammered last night? Chloe. It’s Chloe, Rose. Are you okay?” the girl asked, her brows furrowing in concern.

“Um… yeah. ‘M fine. Just… tired,” Rose answered, quite unsure how exactly to proceed with this conversation.

“Yeah, well… me too. I worked last night and didn’t get home until half ten, and then I had to finish the bloody mountain of reading McInally assigned,” she lamented. “Still… you don’t see me forgettin’ my best mate,” the girl said pointedly. 

Best mate? Jesus… who did this girl think she was? It was one thing to know her name… she’d probably heard her being called by the prof at some point… but all of sudden she was her best mate? Clearly this girl was delusional. 

Then something else the girl said hit her. Oh my god… the readings… the seriously ridiculous list of readings they were to have completed before today. She knew she was forgetting something last night. She’d read just a little over half of the assigned articles and text passages, but had planned on finishing the rest after she worked a bit on her paper last night. Fuck. With her evening filled with tall, dark and brilliant, she completely forgot.

“Good morning, class,” McInally’s amplified voice filled the lecture theatre. “Could you please all close your books and take out a pencil,” she instructed. Pulling up a bundle of papers, she began distributing them. “This is a quiz based on the readings I assigned last class. I trust you all read them thoroughly and gleaned an understanding of their content?” she challenged. 

Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck. 

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

After her disaster of a class, Rose made it through two more before her schedule allowed her to return back to her flat. The only thing that had kept her going through the day was a text she’d gotten from John midway through her third class asking if she’d like to maybe have dinner tomorrow night with him at Torilio’s. She’d responded with a ‘Sounds great :)’ as soon as class let out and then made her way home. As much as she was sort of disappointed that their date wasn’t tonight, she was actually sort of thankful at the same time. Right now she needed to lick her academic wounds and crawl under a big comfy blanket with a bowl of ice cream. 

“Nat?” she hollered, entering the flat. 

Silence greeted her. Well, at least she could lament her scholastic defeat alone. The kitchen was a mess… nothing unusual, really… but at least it contained the requisite amount of chips and ice cream needed to drown herself in her sorrows for the day. God. How could she have forgotten about those readings? She’d pretty much given up 5% of her grade thanks to that little lapse in memory. 

Armed with a full bowl of double chocolate fudge flavoured ice cream, she trudged to the living room, found a blanket, and turned on the telly. Anything to take her mind off. ‘The X Factor’ was the first thing she came across. Her mother had loved the show and had spent many an evening passing the time watching it. Rose wasn’t desperately in love with it, but left it play nonetheless, feeling an odd sort of comfort in having it on… as if her mother were somehow there wrapping her in a comforting hug. 

The ice cream was more than half gone when a knock sounded at the door. Wrapping the blanket protectively around her shoulders she made her way over. Looking through the peephole she saw nothing but an empty hallway. Odd. 

Turning the handle she opened the door and… 

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

“Hi Rose!” a woman’s voice chimed from her left. 

Looking over, Rose smiled. “Hey, Chloe,” she greeted, watching her friend slide into the lecture seat next to her. 

“Pretty wicked quiz yesterday, huh? I felt so bad for you. You left so fast after class I didn’t get a chance to talk with you,” Chloe said, obviously concerned as to her welfare.

“Yeah… sorry about that. I… I was completely caught off guard with the quiz, and I hadn’t done the reading…” she trailed off.

“That’s okay. Sorry you found it so hard, though,” Chloe commiserated. 

“Yeah. Oh well. I won’t do that again,” she promised. 

Chloe gave her a supportive smile. “Listen… after yesterday I talked to Nat and she suggested we all go out for a girl’s night. You need a break, Rose. You’re startin’ to lose it. Let’s just drop everything and do it tonight, yeah?” 

“Oh… I can’t tonight. Gotta date,” Rose explained, unable to keep a grin from spreading on her face.

“What? And you didn’t _tell me_?!” Chloe barked, clubbing Rose in the arm.

“Oi!” Rose yelped, rubbing her arm. “That hurt!”

“Well… you shoulda told me! Really, Rose. You’d think we just met yesterday with how much you share with me,” Chloe complained.

“I’d’ve kept it to myself longer if I’d known I’d get a beatin’ for tellin’ ya,” Rose whinged.

“Fine. Be like that. Just don’t expect me to come knockin’ on your door when I meet a fit set of twins and I’m lookin’ for a wingman,” she warned.

Rose laughed. “Fine. Anyway… it’s not like I’ve been keeping a big fat secret. We only just met a few days ago,” she shared, thinking back to their first encounter in the library.

“Yeah? So tell me about ‘im. He buff? Sort of… no brains, all muscles? No wait… if I know you it’s completely the other way ‘round,” her friend rolled her eyes.

“Oi! I’ll have you know that men with brains are loads more attractive than dull thick headed weightlifters,” Rose countered.

“Ah… I see. A scrawny, slip of a man, then,” Chloe taunted.

“Hardly,” Rose defended. “He’s… trim. And gorgeous,” Rose reflected, getting lost in the mental image of him. Out of the corner of her eye she caught her friend smirking. “What? Oh… sod off,” Rose said, jabbing her elbow into her neighbour. 

“So is that where you were last night then? Out with tall, dark and gorgeous?” Chloe teased.

“Nope. I spent the night drowning my sorrows in a tub of double chocolate fudge ice cream after that quiz yesterday. God… I can’t believe I forgot that reading,” Rose chided herself again.

“Well if you weren’t busy snogging some hot bloke, why didn’t you answer when I rang you then?” Chloe asked. 

“You never rang, Chloe. I had my phone with me all night. Were you drinkin’ last night?” Rose said with mock sternness.

“No. I _did_ ring you. You just didn’t answer. It was only, like, half nine or something like that… were you in bed already?” she asked.

“Of course not. I was… I…” Rose trailed off. She never went to bed that early, but… what was she doing last night? Trying to recall, she pushed herself to think of the last thing she remembered. Oh yeah… ice cream. And telly. That’s right. She was watching ‘The X Factor’. Then… well… then she… A sort of anxiety played at her with the sudden disconcerting thought that she didn’t actually remember anything else about last night. In fact, she had no memory of the evening at all after that.

“Rose? You okay?” Chloe asked beside her.

“Yeah. Just… I can’t… I don’t remember what I did last night,” she said, unable to keep her worry out of her voice. “Oh my god… I honestly don’t remember.”

“Hey… it’s okay, yeah? You’ve just been workin’ too hard. Don’t worry about it. You just need a break. I wasn’t kidding about that,” her friend said supportively.

“Yeah, I guess,” Rose said, not really believing it. 

“Good morning, class,” Professor Dougall shouted above the din. “Quiet down, please,” he called. 

“Anyway… I wanna hear all about this ‘date’ of yours later, you hear?” Chloe demanded.

“Yeah, sure,” she said distractedly. 

“I trust you all got the readings done I assigned last day?” she heard Professor Dougall said in an almost sinister tone.

“Oh, dear god,” Rose closed her eyes. Not again.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

The day went by quickly, and thankfully, without another pop quiz. She walked home quickly after her last class, anxious to jump in the shower and freshen up before John showed up at her door. 

The flat was empty once again… Nat would still be attending her last lecture, Rose knew… so she had the place to herself for a bit. Stripping down, she padded to the loo and flipped the shower on, testing the water for heat. As she waited, the issue of last night… or _lack_ of last night… once again nagged at her. It was driving her mad. How could she just forget a whole evening? 

Once again, she tried to reason it out. This morning she’d woken up in her bed. She knew that much. And she’d been in her jimjams and bare feet, so she hadn’t gone out. Or had she? No. Of course she hadn’t. Surely she’d’ve remember at least _that_ much. 

All the possibilities she came up with seemed impossible… or at the very least, improbable. Had she had a seizure, maybe? Had someone slipped something in her afternoon tea? What if there’d been a… a gas leak, or something? Maybe some noxious gas had been let loose in her building?

Ridiculous. If that was the case, why would she have woken up without a headache or anything like? And all her other reasons were equally as daft. How could she’ve managed to get herself in bed last night if she’d had a seizure bad enough to erase her memory? Surely Nat would’ve had her at the hospital if that was the case. 

Nat. She could ask Nat what happened. Then again… if Nat and Chloe were already worried about her after her mental slip the other day with the readings. Nah. Better just let it go. The last thing she needed was the two of them organizing an ‘intervention’ of some sort to address her failing cognitive abilities. 

A part of her chided herself for the thought. They were just worried about her. And if truth be told, _she_ was actually a little worried about herself as well. It had been sweet of them to have asked her out to take her mind off everything. If she hadn’t had her date planned with John she’d have definitely taken them up on it.

Her date. A little zing of excitement fluttered through her. She’d be seeing John in just a short while. In some ways it seemed like only minutes ago he’d stood before her, his eyes focused on her lips and her own equally as distracted by his. She’d so hoped he’d have leaned in and eliminated the distance between them, but he hadn’t. Maybe tonight, she found herself almost desperately hoping, her mind already creating sensory imaginings of his hands on her waist… his soft lips on hers…

A thrum of arousal pushed through her with the thought. Hmmm. She was alone in the flat. She had a _bit_ of time before he’d get here…

Climbing in under the now hot spray of water she turned her face up to catch the falling drops and let her mind continue to play out the scenario she’d begun imagining. Where was she? Oh yes… his hands on her waist… his lips on hers. Closing her eyes, she imagined his hands roaming up her back, slippery from the water. The water? Yeah… she liked this scenario. They were in the shower now. Not like she couldn’t jump ahead a bit… this was her fantasy, after all. 

So his hands were sliding up her back with one gliding up into her hair to grasp a handful of it. Pulling her head back with gentle force, his lips were grazing her neck. She imagined him sucking, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin under her jaw, sliding down to lick and caress her clavicle with his mouth. Back in the real world, she allowed her own hand to slide down her body to the apex of her thighs, finding her most sensitive spot. Gently, she began circling her fingers over the responsive nerve endings, applying just enough pressure to ignite her growing arousal and to make breath hitch.

In her imagination, her hands were playing up and down the firm, narrow plains of John’s back, pulling him to her to further close the distance between them. Not that there was much of it. He was already pushed firmly against her, his hardness pressed against her belly, making her want nothing more than to have him inside her.

Knowing she was slick with want, she reached down and dipped a finger inside herself to press against the slightly textured front wall of her opening. The pressure sent a spike of need through her, and that, coupled with the now more frantic movement of her fingers on her clit had her so close. 

In her mind, John, stopped his fevered kisses and held her face in his hands, his eyes staring intently down into hers. Suddenly they weren’t in the shower any longer. They were lying on a blanket under the stars. The air smelled of apples and above there were two moons. “Come for me, Rose. My precious girl,” he directed, his voice gentle but authoritative at the same time.

And she did. Hard. A gasp flew from her as she leaned against the back of the shower, the water spilling over her as she continued nursing her orgasm to completion. 

Opening her eyes, she stood up fully and let the spray of water sluice over her overwarm skin. Her body still sang with the residual bliss from her climax, and she stood there enjoying the feeling for a couple of minutes while her breathing returned to normal. 

The last image of her fantasy lingered in her mind. John looking at her with such intensity… such desire… it was soul aching. It was as if she’d longed for such a vision to come true her entire life. And if she was lucky, she reminded herself, it could actually happen tonight.


	5. The Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A cup of intrigue poured into a bowl of mystery, finished off with a dash of fluff for your reading pleasure! Enjoy!

### The Restoration : Chapter 5 - The Date

John stood at her door for a few moments before knocking. He was suddenly a bit nervous, which surprised him. He was generally so confident… sometimes overconfident, as Rose had so eloquently pointed out… but for some reason, whenever he actually thought of Rose he felt like an insecure teenager again.

Chiding himself, he pulled himself to his full height. He was a grown man, for heaven’s sake. It wasn’t like he’d never dated before. He’d dated plenty of women. Like… well… there was… 

His head was suddenly empty of details. It didn’t matter though. There were _plenty_ of women. So why was he all of a sudden completely at a loss when it came to this blushing, bright girl?

Probably because he wasn’t just a naive graduate student any longer. He was looking for more than just a one night stand, and Rose Tyler was… well, she was… perfect. 

Gathering his courage, he rapped against the wooden door with his fist and waited, feeling a field of butterflies take flight in his stomach as he did so. Gods… you’d think he was a bloody teenager, the way his body was reacting to seeing this particular real live female. 

From beyond the door he heard footsteps. It opened to reveal the very person he’d been thinking about. “Hi,” she smiled widely. 

“Hi. I, uh… I brought these,” he said, extending his hand to profer her a bouquet of spring flowers. 

“Thanks,” she smiled, taking the bouquet from him. “Come in?” she offered, stepping aside to let him through the door.

“Thanks,” he replied, stepping over the threshold. Her flat was decorated simply, with the odd picture tacked up here and there. It was clean, but not completely free of clutter. 

“Sorry… my flatmate is a bit of a slob,” she explained, picking up a jumper left abandoned over the back of a chair set up by the door.

“Oh… no worries. This place is nothing compared to mine,” he admitted, picturing his house. Her place literally had nothing on his, he knew. At least her roomie knew to pick up her pants before company showed up.

“I just… I have to just grab my purse and then we can be off,” she said, gesturing to her room.

“Oh, right. No problem,” he assured her as she ran off to the room in the middle of the hall. From where he stood he surveyed the place again. In an odd way it reminded him of every other flat he’d been in since he moved here. There was something about other students’ places he’d been in as well... he couldn’t put his finger on it. Something… generic. 

He was continuing to ponder this when Rose reappeared with her bag in hand. “Alright. Ready to go?” she said, her taunting tongue poking from the side of her teeth.

“Yup,” he replied, looking her up and down. She was wearing a denim skirt with a matching jacket and her hair was tied in loose braids on either side of her face. She looked so young in some ways, but in other ways… it seemed oddly like she’d been around for eons. She was… timeless. “You look… lovely,” he said, at a loss for how to really describe the mix of beauty and… well… mystery, that she represented to him at the moment.

An adorable shyness enveloped her, making him feel oddly protective. “Thanks,” she said almost bashfully, her eyes twinkling.

Realizing he was standing in the way of the door, he stood aside and opened it. “Shall we?” he asked, gesturing for her to proceed him.

“Thank-you,” she said formally, walking through the door. 

His eyes darted down involuntarily to catch the beauty that was her backside in the tight denim dress. “My pleasure,” he said, far too honestly as he let her lead the way out. 

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

The restaurant was off the beaten track a bit, a fair distance from the uni. They’d decided to walk anyway, seeing as it was a truly lovely night for a change. They passed the time once again chatting about classes, professors and roommates, and much to Rose’s glee, John had scooped up her hand as soon as they left her building and he’d not let go the entire way there. His fingers were long and hers fit perfectly threaded through them. 

John gave his name and the maitre d’ showed them to a cozy spot in the corner of the room lit by a muted spotlight and a glass encased candle. It was beautiful and she said as much, now suddenly quite aware that she was underdressed. 

John had shown up wearing dark jeans and a blue suit jacket over a white jumper. He looked gorgeous, of course, but his outfit hadn’t really prepared her for this level of posh.

“You okay?” he asked, clearly sensing her concern.

“Um… yeah. Just… well, I feel a bit underdressed,” she admitted, looking around at the other couples in the restaurant, none of whom were paying them any mind.

John reached across the table and captured her hand in his. “You look beautiful. Perfect,” he said sincerely, his thumb running soothing circles over the back of her hand.

Her stomach did a little flip and she felt herself smile. “Thanks. I wasn’t fishin’ for a compliment, though. I just… this is a bit more… well, just… more than I expected,” she shared.

“Oh. Well… we could… I mean, we don’t have to stay, if you don’t want,” he offered, looking a bit unsure. “I just thought… I haven’t been on a proper date in a while. I wouldn’t want you to think I wasn’t… well… that I didn’t appreciate that you said yes to my asking you out,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. 

“No… I like it! Love it, really,” she quickly assured him, feeling badly for having mentioned it. “I’m just not sure I’m quite fit in, dressed like this,” she explained. 

He seemed to relax considerably with her explanation, and his concerned expression softened into understanding. Rose’s heart suddenly went out to him. He was as nervous as she was about this date. It was adorable. 

“You _really_ don’t need to worry about that, Rose. You’re… you look incredible. Really,” he assured her, his eyes travelling downward and back up again in a clearly appreciative manner.

“Well… thanks,” she said, slipping her tongue between her teeth. He sure knew how to make a woman feel attractive. 

“Anyway… I thought you deserved a fantastic meal after working so hard on your paper,” he said decidedly.

She laughed. “If I celebrated like this every time I worked on a paper I’d be broke. More than I am, I mean,” she informed him. “You would too, I’m sure,” she added. 

He chuckled. “Yeah, it’s been a heavy year, I’ll admit. Still… not as difficult as I’d imagined. It actually surprises me how quickly I’m picking up things this year. I seem to remember last year being a bit of a struggle, but this term… it just all seems to be easier to understand. Almost embarrassingly so, if I’m honest,” he admitted.

Rose raised her eyebrows. “Be careful, John Smith… your ego is showing,” she warned with a smile.

He grinned. “Yeah. Sorry. It’s just… it’s true what I’m saying. I guess I’m actually sort of amazed with it,” he said, his gaze suddenly distant.

“Well… since we’re being honest,” Rose shared, deciding she might as well, “last year I was an A student. Across the board. But this term I’ve been having such a hard time concentrating. I keep forgettin’ everything. I’ve never been like that. I’m usually really good at stayin’ on top of my assignments and such, but this year… it’s like I’m just strugglin’ to even remember what I did last night. It’s… it’s actually getting a bit scary,” she admitted.

John’s brows furrowed in concern. “Have you mentioned it to a doctor?” he asked. “There are some metabolic conditions that can affect concentration and memory,” he posited.

“Nah. I just… I figured I’ve just been stressed with all the assignments and such… but maybe I should do,” she said, biting her bottom lip as she considered his theory. It’s true she hadn’t been eating that well lately… maybe it was something as simple as a vitamin deficiency or something. 

“It’s not a bad idea. You can never be too careful,” he suggested. “Now that you mention it,” he said, clearly distracted by a thought, “my flatmate Charlie been complaining about forgetting things lately. I wonder if it could be a virus or something,” he pondered.

She thought about that for a moment. “Yeah, but I haven’t noticed any other symptoms or anything. It just seems to be my memory. But... now that I think of it... I _have_ been more tired than usual,” she added, almost to herself.

“That’s what Charlie’s been saying as well. He was complaining he’s been falling asleep in class lately,” he said, clearly mulling the problem over.

“Well maybe I will go get checked out. It’d be nice to not feel so loopy all the time,” she thought out loud.

“I wouldn’t want you to lose _all_ your loopiness, though,” John interjected. “I like your loopy-ality,” he smiled.

“So bein’ brilliant gives you permission to make up new words?” she teased.

“Yup,” he agreed, popping the ‘p’ with conviction. “And it gives me permission to do this,” he said, suddenly pulling her hand to his lips and planting a feather soft kiss there. 

Every single hormone Rose currently had roaming around in her body immediately came to full attention, sending a spark of want straight to her centre. Trying not to look as completely affected as she was, she asked, “So your brilliance gave you permission to do that?”

He responded with a truly smouldering look that nearly made her stop breathing. “No, but it was definitely a brilliant idea,” he said, offering her a cheeky wink.

Before she could check herself, she heard her own voice almost gasp, “No argument here.”

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

Their meal was lovely, which had been no surprise. Rose had ordered a chicken alfredo that was heavenly and they’d shared a bottle of white wine which perfectly complimented the food. 

In honesty, she’d had no idea what wine might go with the meal… her usual ‘go-to’ was whatever was cheapest at the closest shop… but John confidently chose the bottle, assuring her it would make her taste buds primed for the cream sauce covered noodles and poultry. He went into a highly technical explanation for the reasoning behind his choice, and Rose had tried to follow, but quickly became lost in his rambling. If he noticed, it didn’t show, and she really appreciated that about him. His intelligence just _was_. It wasn’t flaunted. And his reasoning had certainly proved true. The entire combination of food and wine had been brilliant.

They’d spent a good deal of time after eating just talking and consuming more wine, but eventually they both conceded it was probably time to leave. Walking back to her place, Rose wasn’t sure, but she thought maybe they were bumping shoulders a bit more often than they had on their way there. Granted, they’d both had a few glasses of wine and were perhaps slightly less physically coordinated than normal, but it felt like more than that. A sort of… charge… filled the air between them as they strolled home, making her feel somewhere between aroused and giddy. Every single thing about him… about _them_... felt right. She knew how daft it would sound if she said it out loud, but it honestly felt like it was fate that they’d met. In truth, it was almost unsettling… the strength of the attraction she felt for this man. And he obviously felt something for her, if the hand kiss and constant flirting were anything to go by. 

Once again, all too soon, her building loomed before them. As they approached, she fought with herself about inviting him in. She wanted to. She really did. _Really._ But she didn’t want their first proper date to end in shagging (even though that’s _exactly_ what she wanted). No… she should offer him a good night and call it an evening. Yup. She should definitely do that.

Stopping just before the front doors, they stood together, both of his hands encasing hers. “I had a wonderful time tonight,” he shared.

“Me too,” she agreed, feeling a giddy sort of heat rising in her with their proximity.

“I, uh… I’d really like to see you again,” he added. “Soon.”

Rose smiled. “Me too,” she repeated, aware that she sounded a bit daft. Surely she had more words in her vocabulary. 

Her self depreciation fell away though as he stepped closer and the electric attraction she’d been feeling between them seemed to spike. Looking down at her, he leaned in, his eyes focused on her lips. Honouring the magnetic gravitation pulling them together, she stood up onto her toes and found herself suddenly lost in the softness of his lips on hers. His arms snaked around her, pulling her even closer against him as her own hands moved up to wrap around his neck to trail into his hair. 

The movement seemed to spark something in him and his enthusiasm doubled, one of his hands darting up to thread through her hair to pull her deeper into the kiss. It felt like they were standing there for eons… his hands playing against her and holding her to him as if his life depended on it. If it was possible for one person to melt into another, she surely would no longer be separate from him, she knew. 

Then something unsettling happened. Behind her closed lids, sparks of golden light played in her vision and a curious warmth began building somewhere in the back of her mind. At first she assumed it was just a heady side effect of their snog, but moments later she began to feel lightheaded. Concentrating, she pushed the feeling aside, trying to ignore it in favour of attending to the very attractive body melded to hers. Sliding her hand down to grip John’s lower back, she pulled his body flush against front. The evidence of his interest in her pushed against her and a delicious moan vibrated through his chest with the contact. 

The pinpoints of light she’d been working to ignore now began to pulse in her field of vision, becoming brighter and along with the lights came a wave of dizziness. Reluctantly pulling away from their kiss, Rose found herself leaning heavily against John’s chest with her eyes closed while she tried to get her equilibrium back. God. Had she had _that_ much to drink? 

“Rose?” she heard John say, concern permeating his slightly breathless voice. Opening her eyes, she found him searching her face in concern. “You okay?”

Embarrassed, Rose ducked her head. “Yeah… sorry… I think I might’ve had one too many glasses of wine,” she admitted, feeling foolish. 

“Oh,” he said, his lips quirking up in a small smile. “I thought maybe my mad snogging skills had truly stolen your breath away.”

Rose laughed and playfully hit his arm. “You plum,” she said, now smiling herself. Then, before she could lose her nerve, she gathered her courage and suggested, “I, uh… I was thinking maybe… do you want to come in?”

John seemed to study her for a moment, his expression warring between desire and guilt. Finally he leaned in and pressed another kiss to her mouth. Her eyes slid closed again, but he pulled away before it got out of hand. “I’d love to… I really would, but I should probably go,” he said softly, regret soaked through his voice. “Can I call you tomorrow, though?” he asked, his hand cupping her face. 

A sort of aching spike pushed through her chest with his rebuff. In her head, she knew exactly why he’d turned her down. She was obviously drunk and he was being a gentleman. She didn’t _feel_ that drunk, but she must be. Pasting on a smile, she said, “Sure,” hoping she was effectively hiding her embarrassment.

John must’ve sensed it despite her incredible acting ability, because he tipped her chin up with his finger and met her eyes with his. “Thank-you, Rose. For tonight.” Dipping down, he snogged her so that her toes curled in her shoes. Releasing her, he stepped back. “Good night.”

“Good night,” she breathed, watching him as he turned and walked away. Touching her lips, she enjoyed the slight tingle leftover from their snog for a moment before turning and letting herself into the building. 

Making her way up the stairs to her flat, the lingering embarrassment of her failed attempt to seduce her astronomer ebbed a bit. It wasn’t that he didn’t _want_ to come in, she reminded herself. He really was just being respectful of her, and she should be grateful. She just didn’t understand why she suddenly got so light headed there. Sure, she’d had a couple glasses, but she’d drunk much more than that before and had never felt like that. And then there were the lights… the flashes she’d noticed before she got dizzy. 

Suddenly a thought hit her. What if the lights were just another symptom of a health problem? John had suggested she see a doctor about her memory and fatigue… what if she was having seizures? Or migraines? She recalled hearing that migraines could have unusual side effects. Could you have a migraine and not actually get a headache? No. Probably not. 

Well, one thing was for sure. She was definitely going to call for an appointment tomorrow. If she was getting sick, she needed to deal with it. She wasn’t going to wait until she actually failed one of her classes before admitting there was something going on.

Turning the key in the lock, Rose opened the door to her flat and walked into the dark apartment. “Nat?” she called out, hoping she might find her roomie at home despite the likelihood she wasn’t. 

Flipping the lights on, she kicked off her shoes and wandered down the hall to peek in Nat’s room. It was half eleven, but she really wasn’t going to be that concerned if she wasn’t home. Nat often didn’t get in until the wee hours on weekends. Opening her flatmate’s door, she found the bedroom quiet and empty. Hmm. Too bad. She actually had hoped to chat for a few minutes about her date.

Moving to the loo, she shed her clothes and picked up her toothbrush to smear toothpaste on it. Glancing up, she caught her reflection in the mirror over the sink. Once again trying to self evaluate, she leaned in to study her eyes. She didn’t _look_ drunk. Then again… she was pretty sure she’d thought that before of her reflection when she’d _definitely_ had a few too many. Her pupils looked normal, though, and the whites of her eyes were just that. White. Usually when she had too much they became decorated in a lovely shade of pink. Well, no point in worrying anymore tonight. That wasn’t going to get her anywhere. She just hoped John didn’t think any the less of her for her perceived inability to hold her liquor. Shaking her head, she once again promised herself she’d ring the doctor’s office in the morning. 

That reaffirmed, she quickly finished her evening bathroom ritual, scooped up her clothes and headed for her room. Her bed was particularly comfortable tonight as she climbed in, pulling her pillow up to its usual resting place against her chest. Releasing mournful little sigh at the distinct lack of John in her bed, she reached for her book. If she couldn’t snuggle up to a manly chest, she could at least snuggle up to a warm book. And for some reason, she was actually quite excited to read it tonight. She had a feeling the recount of Jasmine’s life was building up to something big.

It opened to her saved page rather conveniently and she nestled further into her other pillow to begin reading.


	6. The Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a bit creepy so far, but it’s about to get _weird_. Hang on tight!

### The Restoration : Chapter 6 - The Present

Releasing mournful little sigh at the distinct lack of John in her bed, Rose reached for the book on her night table. If she couldn’t snuggle up to a manly chest, she could at least snuggle up to a warm book. And for some reason, she was actually quite excited to read it tonight. She had a feeling the recount of Jasmine’s life was building up to something big.

It opened to her saved page rather conveniently and she nestled further into her other pillow to begin reading.

 

__

**Chapter Three - The Library**

_My grown-up life began long before the memories had of it. That is to say, I lived an entire existence without even being able to acknowledge it. My experiences, though… they shaped me. They made me strong. They made me brave. And they made me aware that not everything a person experienced could, or should, be taken at face value._

_It all began with my passion for knowledge. It was something I had burned for as a child and this desire for information and experiences was something I always carried with me. This drive and passion for learning manifested itself in the most unusual of ways, as far as my world was concerned. In fact, some felt it was a foolhardy venture, taking the road I did, because young girls simply did not follow their dreams when societal expectations loomed large over their heads. I was never one to conform, however, and my choices lead me to the most mysterious and wonderous places. Eventually, though, they led me to to the one place I never dared dream I might end up. At university._

 

University? Rose hadn’t even realized women could _go_ to uni in the 1600’s. Well, there you go… she was learning new things all the time. She read on.

 

_Some larger power knew of my very dreams, because somehow I ended up exactly where I’d always hoped to be. Studying. Learning. Making more of myself. And how better to learn more about the present, than by studying how it came be? I needed to learn about the past before I would ever hope to understand what was happening here and now._

_For this reason, the study of history was where I focused my mind; where I sated my thirst for knowledge. And it was through my studies… or my fatigue of study, that is, that my life changed forever._

 

Rose shook her head. Yet _another_ similarity to her life. This… Jasmine… she’d also studied history. Not that it wasn’t already, but this was truly getting creepy.

 

_It happened on a night not unlike many others. My studies had me exhausted but rest was not mine to enjoy. In an effort to elude distraction, I found my way to the library where I holed up with my readings to concentrate on soaking in as much information as my brain could manage. It was quite astounding, really, how much I could learn when I put my mind to it, but my capacity for concentration was limited despite my desire to continue on. Deciding to clear my mind, I ambled among the rows of books, imagining what life might be like for the people described in the bound volumes. People who’d lived long before me. People with awesome responsibilities who lived extraordinary lives._

_I was quite thoroughly distracted by my musings when I very accidentally collided with a tall fellow who had been of similar mind._

_“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there,” I apologized, embarrassment reddening my cheeks._

_“No, I was in your way. I should be the one apologizing,” the man assured me, looking down at me with dark, ancient eyes. Gazing down at the volumes I’d acquired in my wander through the stacks, he commented, “I see you have a love of history.”_

_“Yes,” I said rather shyly, allowing myself to truly look at this man for the first time. He was clearly a man of means. Well dressed and attractive._

_With a smile, he said secretively, “I prefer books about the stars.”_

 

Rose felt her breath catch. What the hell?! Hastily she continued reading.

 

_“Really? I have always wanted to learn more about the stars,” I shared._

_The man seemed impressed by my admission and leaned in conspiratorially, “I am studying to become a doctor of astronomy. My family thinks it isn’t a good use of my time, but I obviously differ in my opinion,” he stated._

_“Well, I am impressed with your choice. It takes courage to pursue your dreams,” I stated, knowing how very true that was._

_“I’m Jonathan, by the way,” the man said, extending his hand to catch hers and bring it to his lips. It was a gallant and bold move, but oh, so very appreciated._

 

Rose dropped the book like it was on fire. What?! Jesus! How…. could this…. what… ???

Staring at the bound incarnation of some prophet, now lying open on her bed, she scooted back from it as if burned. Johnathan. John. 

Her mind skittered over the surface of the information she’d been presented in the book so far that had already caught her attention. The girl was born of a ‘lower class’ family, her father died when she was small, her _mother_ died just as she was about to head off to uni, she studied history, and now… now she’d just met a ‘Jonathan’ who was studying to be a ‘Doctor of Astronomy’??? This was too much. Too, too much. 

So far she’d written off the similarities to her life as being at least some some wild cosmic coincidence or at most a psychological projection of her own unresolved issues, but now, though… now how could she think it was anything but…

What? What could it be? Some kind of soothsaying done hundreds of years ago? After all… this book was old. Really old. Then again… how did she even know that? It could be two hundred years old or it could have been written a year ago. She had no way of knowing. Either way… how could the author possibly know what was going on in her life right now in 2007? It didn’t make any sense. 

Screwing up her courage, she reached for the book. Holding it up, she took a deep breath and leafed ahead. The next few pages… maybe one more chapter’s worth of writing… were filled with legible written words. The rest though… it was… oh my god. She paused on a page about halfway through the book. It was gibberish. The entire page was full of nonsense. Letters combined into words that had no discernible meaning. In English, that is. Were they in another language? Studying them for a moment, she tried to discern a pattern of any kind. She couldn’t find any. The combinations seemed truly random. She quickly turned to the very last page. It seemed the novel simply ended with more gibberish. 

Slamming the book closed, she sat for a moment with it sitting on her lap… taunting her. Her mind whirled. This made no sense. None. How was this even possible? 

Staring at the offending object, she considered what to do. Maybe she should call someone? John, maybe? Yeah… fantastic idea. And tell him what, exactly? _I was reading this book and it turns out it’s actually the story of my life. Not only that… it turns out most of the book is actually just meaningless gibberish. Isn’t that barmy?_ Yeah… that wouldn’t make him rethink his decision to ask her out again.

What should she do then? It was a ridiculous question. She should continue reading it, of course. What rational person wouldn’t? If it really _was_ a coincidence, she’d find out soon enough. If it was more than that… if this story was actually some sort of… supernatural or miraculous kind of chronicle of her own life… she might well find out what could happen in her own future. It was crazy, she knew. Of course it wasn’t gonna be that. It was gonna turn out to be a coincidence of insane proportions. 

Gingerly picking up the book, she found the page where she left of and warily carried on reading.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

John walked home, continuing on from Rose’s place to his. His body still hummed with arousal after their heated snog, and right now he almost desperately wished his conscience hadn’t been so very active. She’d invited him in, and by Gods… his body was desperately upset by his mind’s usurping of its intentions. There was nothing more he wanted than to be up in Rose’s flat right now, his hands roaming over her curves with her lips pressing against his heated skin. Luckily, though, his mind had had the upper hand at the moment she’d asked him up, and he’d made the right decision. She’d had a few too many glasses of wine, if her poor equilibrium was any indication. 

Oh, but how he wished the circumstances had been different. She was almost irresistible, as far as he was concerned. She seemed to almost entrance him, and if he was honest, he felt almost helpless against the magnetic attraction he felt toward her. If there was any good thing about how this evening was left, however, it was that there was no longer any question as to her interest in him. He was never very good at reading other people’s signals in that regard and he had to admit he was pretty proud of himself that he hadn’t been mistaken hers so far. She really hadn’t minded him taking her hand and then her lips. 

As he walked, he considered whether he should call her right now… you know… just to thank her again for the evening. No. He’d just left her. Show some restraint, John. Any guy looking that needy didn’t end up with the girl, he chastised himself. Fine. He wouldn’t call tonight. Tomorrow morning. Early. Yeah.

His thoughts turned to his plans for the next day. He had to get some revision in and wanted to tidy his place in case… well, just in case maybe Rose might consider letting him make dinner for her tomorrow night. He wasn’t a whiz in the kitchen, but there were a few dishes he was moderately decent at preparing. 

That meant, of course, having to practically bribe his housemates to help him out. The house was due for a good cleaning, but the trio of blokes he lived with didn’t generally share his concern for neatness. Especially Charlie. The guy could be a real pig. Then of course, there was the matter of getting rid of them for a few hours. That shouldn’t be too difficult. Matt would probably be working and Charlie and George had girlfriends he could farm them out with. After all the grief they’d given him this year about the sad state of his love life, they sort of owed him, he figured. 

Passing through a heavily treed area just before the street he lived on, he became aware of a sort of… pressure in the air. It was the oddest feeling. Stopping, he looked around him. No one. The sky was lit with stars and no clouds loomed. Feeling a sudden desire to stick out his tongue, he did so… and was surprised to find he could actually _taste_ the air. It was… tangy. Charged. 

Suddenly, without any warning, John found himself picked up by unseen hands and slammed against a nearby tree trunk, unable to move. The air around him pressed in and the molecules surrounding him misted over in a grey haze so that he could see nothing other than fog. He tried to let out a scream, but found no air available to him. 

That was when he felt his mouth fill with the electric tang of the mist and to his alarm it suddenly began solidifying in his mouth and began pushing further into his body. Panic shot through him. The liquid gas crawled through his airway up into his nose and in moments he felt tremendous pressure pushing into his sinuses. 

An agonizing ‘pop’ reverberated through his skull and with it, he felt the world melt away.


	7. The Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that last chapter escalated quickly, didn’t it! Still… the story must go on, as you’ll see! 
> 
> _But WAIT! What happened to him last chapter???_ , you may ask as you start this one. It IS a bit of a mystery. Once again… all will be made clear as we move along, I _promise_!
> 
> I have to admit to loving writing this chapter. It’s definitely NSFW and worthy of the story’s rating, just so you know.

### The Restoration : Chapter 7 - The Future

“Good morning, Rose! Wakey wakey,” a cheerful voice chirped in her ear.

A smile spread on her lips. “Good mornin’ to you too,” she rasped into her mobile, her voice still filled with sleep.

“I woke you up, didn’t I? I’m sorry… I thought… how about I call you back later?” John suggested contritely.

“No no… I’m up. Really. I was just… lyin’ here tryin’ to get up the energy to move,” she admitted. “I was up late last night.”

“Oh yes? And why was that, then? I was a very responsible date… you were home at a decent hour, I thought,” he pointed out.

Rose cringed inwardly, recalling his gallant decline of her offer to come up to her flat. “Yeah… you were a perfect gentleman,” she agreed. “I just couldn’t sleep, and I ended up readin’ this book for hours…” she trailed off, memories of the book suddenly flooding back. She’d continued reading until the words stopped making sense, but what had been revealed to her had continued to be frightening in its accurate reflection of her life. 

It had gone on to chronicle episodes in Jasmine’s life which mirrored her and John’s coffee shop trip, her forgotten readings and subsequent pop quiz, the date last night, and even the heated snog. Her head had been spinning with the uncanny similarities. There was no way on earth this was just a coincidence, but it wasn’t until she read the next bit that she considered the ramifications of having this piece of writing in her possession. 

The next few pages outlined what happened next in Jasmine’s life. It chronicled experiences Rose had yet to live, assuming the book was actually some sort of fortune telling magazine written specifically for her, that is. And if it was, there was nothing saying these experiences wouldn’t present themselves soon. 

“Must be a good one if it kept you up all night,” he supplied. 

“Yeah… definitely a page turner,” she admitted ruefully. 

“So… I was wondering,” John began, “what are you doing tonight? I, uh… I thought maybe, if you’re not busy, we could get together?”

A flutter of anxiety tugged at her with the offer. Not because of the actual offer of a date, of course. There was nothing she’d rather do than go out with John again. The anxiety had everything to do with the fact the book had _predicted_ he’d ask her out again. 

She tried to reason with herself. Of _course_ he was going to ask her out again. He’d pretty much said that last night. Hardly an earth shattering prediction, she reminded herself. It was the actual activities planned that would decide if the book was actually some magical artifact. 

Realizing she hadn’t yet answered him, she said, “I’d like that. What did you have in mind?” Please don’t be a picnic, please don’t be a picnic...

“Weeellll… I thought maybe I could keep that a surprise for now,” he shared, his voice low.

A pairing of relief and anxiety were released inside her in equal parts. She didn’t really want to find out if the words she’d read were prophetic… if he was planning on taking her on a picnic under the stars… but on the other hand, she wished she could just get the suspense over with, already. 

“Sounds...intriguing,” she replied. “Any hints?” she pressed. 

“Nope. You’ll just have to spend the rest of the day in suspense,” he teased. 

He wanted to surprise her. Despite her worry about the stupid book, she couldn’t help but let that make her stomach squirm happily. It was so bloody romantic. 

“Alright, then, Mr. Mysterious… it’s a date,” she agreed. “So what have you got planned for the rest of your day,” she asked, wanting to keep him on the phone a while longer. She could listen to his voice all day. 

“Oh… this and that. Gotta do some revision and I’m trying to get my two housemates to clean up their junk around here. It’s like living in a barn,” he shared. 

Rose laughed. She could relate. “I know what you mean. Nat is sweet but the girl doesn’t know how to tidy to save her life,” Rose shared. “Maybe I’ll take your lead and nag her to help me clean today,” she thought out loud. 

“That’s right. We’ve got to put them to work, these slovenly flatmates,” he agreed.

“So I take it from your comment that you’re the naggy one out of the lot of you? Which one of your housemates is getting off easy, then?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well… you said your _two_ flatmates. What’s the other one up to today that he gets out of doin’ the housework?”

There was a short pause on the other end of the line. “I only have two housemates. Matt and George. And trust me… they aren’t getting out of anything,” he shared.

A distinct feeling of foreboding slid through Rose’s body. “What about Charlie?” she asked.

“Rose… I don’t have a flatmate named Charlie. Are you alright?” he asked, sounding concerned.

“Oh. Yeah. I’m fine. I just… I thought… oh, nevermind. My head must still be sleepin’,” she reasoned aloud, purposely not voicing her confusion. She was _sure_ he’d mentioned a ‘Charlie’ when she’d talked to him about his housemates before. Wow. She must _really_ be losing it. It was definitely time to make a doctor’s appointment. “I guess my brain’s just not workin’ yet,” she reasoned. 

“Well I _did_ pull you from a completely unnecessary beauty sleep,” he chuckled. “As long as you’re not thinking about the flatmates of another bloke you’re currently dating, I completely understand.”

Rose laughed. “Nope. Not thinking of _his_ flatmates. He lives by himself… I wouldn’t get you two confused,” she teased.

“Oi! Easy on my ego, there, Rose Tyler. I may come off as a self assured bloke, but I’m really highly sensitive, I’ll have you know,” he informed her, attempting to sound hurt.

Rose smiled widely. “Sorry… I’ll have to remember that from now on,” she vowed.

“Quite right,” he agreed. “Anyhow… I really don’t want to ring off, but if I’m gonna get any of my revision in I suppose I’d better go. Can I pick you up at your flat around… how about six?”

“Sounds good. See you then,” she agreed. “Oh… wait. What should I wear?” she asked, suddenly remembering last night and her poor clothing choice.

“Anything you wear is fantastic, Rose. But if you’re worried… just dress casually. Jeans and jumper type of thing. 

“Right. I can do that,” she agreed. “See you at six.” 

“Six o’clock,” he agreed. 

They rang off and Rose spent a moment looking at her phone. The excitement that she was going to be seeing him again made her smile, but her expression quickly morphed to one of contemplation. What if the book actually _did_ foretell her future? What if his plans ended up being the same as events described in the story? What would she actually do?

Well… first she’d probably have to be sedated and then probably committed, she thought ruefully. But really… what _would_ she do? 

You’re getting ahead of yourself, Tyler, she advised her overactive mind. So far, other than the fact they had another date planned, there was nothing that had happened so far today that suggested the next events in the story were going to actually come to pass. 

Tossing a look to her bedside table, she found the offending object just sitting there unobtrusively looking all the world like any old tattered book. To look at the cover you’d never guess that there was a possibility it was a supernatural object of some kind. When she’d signed it out of the library there was no way in the universe she suspected it would cause this much stress, that’s for sure. 

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

“Hi… uh, is Rose here?” 

Rose felt a little zing of excitement on hearing John’s voice float down the hall from the front door. Quickly applying her lippy, she smacked her lips once and checked to make sure she didn’t get any on her teeth.

“Yeah, she’s here. Come on in. I’ll get her. Roooooose!” Nat’s voice sang down the hall. 

Seconds later her head popped into Rose’s room through her partially closed door. “Your date’s here,” she smiled mischievously. “He’s not a nerdy twig like I imagined he’d be,” she announced, sounding impressed. “In fact, he’s a bit fit! Ooo - and the _hair_ ,” she said dreamily, her eyes twinkling in delight. 

Rose smiled knowingly. “Told you, didn’t I?” she admonished, her tongue touching her teeth. Grabbing her purse, she took one last look in the mirror to make sure she was as presentable as possible. She’d decided on wearing her low rise jeans, a white tank and a red zip-up form fitting jacket she’d been quite partial to. Presentable. 

As she brushed past her friend into the hall, Nat whispered, “I won’t expect you home, then?”

Tossing her an eye roll, she gave her a little wave. “See you later.”

“Yeah. Later,” her friend winked. 

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

“How was your day?” John asked as she closed the door to the flat. 

“Well… it was pretty uneventful, really. Did some revision, but not much. I had trouble concentrating ‘cause I have a date tonight with a really fit bloke,” she advised, her eyes twinkling and her tongue touching her teeth.

His eyes found her tongue and seemed to get stuck there for a moment. He seemed to realize he’d been staring then, and cleared his throat, once again finding her eyes. “Oh…I’m glad to hear that,” he grinned. What she said must’ve finally sunk in. “Maybe I should go then… wouldn’t want to keep you from your fit bloke,” he teased.

They started heading down the hall and he scooped up her hand in his, making her heart flutter once again. Trying to sound nonchalant, she replied, “Nah, that’s alright. You’re much more attractive anyhow,” she grinned widely.

He clearly preened with the compliment. “Quite right,” he agreed, squeezing her hand a bit tighter as they exited the front doors of the building.

“So what’s planned for the evenin’?” she asked, trying to sound light, but suddenly very aware that if his answer mirrored the events foretold in the book it would quickly change the tone of their date.

“Weeelll… I have something in mind. Don’t get your hopes up _too_ high, though. I’m only a vehicle-less student, after all, so we can’t stray too far from home, but I thought maybe that would be okay. You know… if we stayed close to home?”

Rose’s heart stuttered and part of the book she’d committed to memory replayed in her mind. 

 

_Our next encounter happened soon after our last, but we didn’t stray far, despite his enthusiasm for the meeting, which seemed to indicate we were about to fly off and see the stars._

 

“Sure… whatever you’ve got planned works for me,” she said, purposely smiling up at him. 

“Brilliant,” he said happily.

They walked for a while with John leading them past his street and onto the the next where they ended up at a small convenience shop. Leading her in, he tugged her along to the snack aisle and stopped in front of a rack of crisps. “Now… I realize you’re probably a bit concerned that this is what I’ve got planned for tea, but I promise it isn’t. You are, however, going to have to pick a favourite snack food while we’re here. Anything strike your fancy?” he asked, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.

She was picking snacks. Could it be for sharing while sitting on a blanket spread out under the night sky? Swallowing nervously, she surveying the choices before her. Finally she reached for a pack of all dressed crisps. “Hmm… an adventurous soul, I see,” he observed.

“Yup. That’s me,” she agreed handing him the bag. Accepting it, he pulled her over to an assortment of wines in the corner. Choosing a large bottle of red and a smaller bottle of white, they headed to the teller and purchased their choices.

Back out in the street, he encouraged her to follow him back the way they’d come. Soon they reached a tree lined street and turned onto it. Barrymore. His place. Rose’s trepidation grew. Were they heading to his place to pick up supplies before heading to a nearby park or something?

They neared a large home and headed up the walk. Despite her worried thoughts, Rose couldn’t help but be distracted and impressed by the size of his place. “It’s massive,” she commented, looking up at the decorative mouldings and gables of the old brick home. 

“Yeah. There’s enough room for at least six or seven students, but the landlord wants to keep the numbers down, which is fine by me,” he shared.

“Wow,” she said, still studying the architecture. “Not many landlords go that route. My mate Chloe lives in a two room place and the landlord prefers at least four tenants so he’s sure the rent will be paid,” she observed.

“Well, I’m not gonna complain. Two apes to share this place with is plenty.”

Once again, Rose’s memory of a fourth tenant in the house niggled at her. She thought of bringing it up again but there was no use questioning him. He was the one living here, after all… he should know who he shared a house with. 

John opened the door and let them in. Showing her in, he lead her to the living room and gestured for her to sit. “Where are your flatmates?” Rose asked, suddenly aware of a very delicious smell. Someone was cooking something yummy.

“Oh… I, uh… they’re out. Girlfriends and jobs… you know,” he said, looking a bit uncomfortable. There was more to it, she could tell, but she wasn’t going to quiz him about it just yet. 

“Uh… can I get you a glass of wine?” he asked in a clear effort to change the subject.

Rose smiled. “I’d love some,” she said, “but… are we going somewhere? You know… out?” she asked a bit awkwardly. 

John touched the side of his nose. “Aha! Trying to gather intell,” he grinned. “Alright… I suppose I can share the plans. I was thinking we could have tea here and then, if you feel like it, we could watch a film or something? That’s what the snacks were for. I know it’s not much…” he trailed off hopefully.

Rose swore she could feel herself melt with relief. NOT a picnic. Thank God. And if they weren’t going out… if they were staying in for the evening and watching movies... then the rest of the ‘prophecy’ wasn’t going to come true either. 

Suddenly a heartwarming affection for this man welled up in her. Here he was, trying his best to win her over with a homemade meal and some time alone, and all she’d been thinking about was that stupid book. Feeling a bit guilty for having been so preoccupied with something so ridiculous, she replied honestly, “I love it. I’d love a night in.” 

He smiled brightly, obviously pleased with her reaction. “Brilliant!” he replied. “Let’s get that wine, then,” he grinned. “I’m making lasagne,” he said, disappearing into the kitchen. “I hope that’s okay,” his voice floated back her way.

“It’s perfect,” she shouted back. And it was. Flopping back on the couch, she let the tension in her body leave her. The story… Jasmine and Jonathan… it had all been an absolutely incredible, crazy coincidence. She let out a happy relieved sigh. Now she could just relax and enjoy the evening for what it was… a date with a man she was very sure she wanted to spend a _lot_ more time with. Maybe one day she’d tell John about the whole wild story and they’d laugh. 

The thought of them actually having a ‘one day’ in the future made her stomach flip with happiness. Getting up, she ambled to the kitchen in search of her brilliant astronomer. 

They visited for a while as John puttered with his preparations. He was a chatty cook, which didn’t surprise her. ‘Chatting’ seemed to be his thing, and she loved it. Loved listening to him. He’d go off on tangents about this chemical reaction or that biological imperative or that stunning nebula he’d been studying… it was all captivating, as far as she was concerned. He was a font of information and she soaked it up as much as she could, asking questions when she actually felt she might be following his train of thought and just listening when she’d given up. 

As she let his voice wash over her, John finished his cooking and laid out the place settings on the table. She had to give it to him… he really knew how to set the mood. He lit candles and turned off the lights, leaving the kitchen curtains pulled open to let the oranges and pinks of the sunset light the room as well. It was perfect.

The first bites of the meal were delicious, as she’d suspected they would be. Through supper they talked about many things, including the lasagna, which, with little encouragement, John explained the ingredients of in great detail. He shared the reason the spices he’d chosen would go together best, which was, of course, because of their chemical properties working in concert with each other together with the reactions of the receptors in the taste buds. Once again… he’d been right. It was the best lasagne she’d ever tasted. 

By the time they finished talking and eating it was dark outside and the light of the candles twinkling around them and the glow of the moon outside were the only illumination. It was perfect. 

With their meal eaten, they retired to the living room. John insisted they just leave the dishes and invited her to wait for him on the couch while he finished up putting the leftover food in the fridge. Sitting with her half finished glass of wine, she heaved a contented sigh. 

A moment later, John emerged from the kitchen with the crisps she’d chosen at the shop and plopped them and one of the half empty bottles of wine on the coffee table. “Now, Ms. Tyler, I have a few films we could chose from… I thought maybe… there’s this one… “ he said, pulling out ‘Amadeus’ from his stack of DVDs. “An oldie but a goodie. Historical. Musical. Good acting. Or we could go lighter...sort of a mesh between history and science fiction…” he said drawing out a DVD of ‘Back to the Future’. 

“History?” she smiled, her eyebrows rising in question.

“Weeellll… it was set in 1985, I believe. Then he travels back to 1955. That’s history. Or we could watch the sequel, which was set in the 1800’s, which is even more ‘historical’,” he said, drawing quotes in the air.

Rose giggled. “Honestly… it doesn’t matter to me. Either one is fine,” she said agreeably.

“Alright, then… how about ‘Back to the Future,” he decided, opening the case. “Bit of humour, history, science fiction...romance,” he added, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Rose laughed again. “You plum,” she declared, bumping his arm with hers. “Sure. Let’s do that one,” she said, picking up her glass of wine from the table in front of her. 

John slipped the disk in and started the film before settling back beside her on the couch with the bowl of crisps in hand. She curled up beside him and pulled the odd one out of the bowl, mostly as an excuse to lean even closer to him as the movie played, and he didn’t seem to mind one bit. In fact, she wasn’t sure, but she thought he might be edging the bowl a bit further away so she had to lean in that much more each time to grab a crisp.

Finally, about halfway through the film, John seemed to give up the pretense of taunting her with snack food. Putting the bowl on the coffee table so he could more overtly pull her closer to him, he settled back and did just that so she leaned against his side as they watched. 

The gesture was such an innocent one, but now that she could feel the rise and fall of his chest against her shoulder, she found herself quite distracted by the idea of feeling his skin bare beneath her roaming hands. That distraction increased tenfold, though, when his fingers began drawing distracting circles on her upper arm. For some reason, the action felt unbelievably intimate. It was as if it sent a message straight to her soul. It was arousing and reassuring and safe and… home. 

It wasn’t long before she chanced leaning her head against his shoulder. He responded by pulling her even closer, inviting her to wrap her arms around him so her head was tucked under his chin. Closing her eyes for a moment, she breathed in a contented breath. He smelled of something… fresh… not fruity, but maybe slightly spicey. It was intoxicating. She caught herself a few times actually closing her eyes to try to catalogue the scent in her mind. She’d smelled it before… maybe it was a cologne a mate had once worn? Whatever it was, he needed to keep wearing it. It was _very_ alluring.

He continued his drawing of patterns on her arm and she echoed them by trying to imitate the movements on his chest where she rested her hand just under her chin. That was when she noticed that his heart seemed to be racing. She felt herself smile. He was as affected by their ‘cuddling’ as she was, it seemed. He seemed to confirm this for her moments later when he trailed his fingers up to comb through her hair before pressing a soft kiss on the crown of her head. A zing of arousal seemed to shoot straight through her with the intimate gesture. She was about to give up on the pretense of cuddling by pulling herself up to kiss his neck when the credits began to roll.

With the closing music, John leaned forward to reach for the remote. “Did you enjoy that?” he asked, clicking off the telly.

“Mmmm. Very much,” she admitted. “But I can think of something else I’d enjoy even more,” she said rather brazenly, almost surprising herself with her own forthrightness. 

His eyebrows raised in slight surprise and obvious hope. “Oh yes?” 

“Mmm hmm,” she hummed, scooting closer to him so her face was mere inches from his. “I seem to remember leaving something unfinished last night,” she rasped, once again almost surprised at her own bravery. Everything inside her was insisting she abandon her self-imposed rule about not shagging so early in a relationship. She felt such a _need_ for him. It was almost disconcerting. The thrum of arousal that pulsed through her as a result of his persistent touch and their purposeful proximity on the couch had her actually aching and it seemed to be overwhelming her usual caution around being sexually forward. 

He swallowed visibly, his eyes darting from her eyes to her lips. “Oh… yes. We did, didn’t we?” he nodded in agreement, his voice husky. 

Rather than answer, she leaned in and took his lips with hers. He opened his mouth to her without much encouragement and gently tangled his tongue with hers. With the palpable sexual tension building over the last hour and a half, it didn’t take long before her hands moved to wrap around the back of his neck and dig into his hair. He responded by pressing her back so she was under him lying horizontal on the couch. His hands stroked her sides and one hovered just above her hip, as if he was considering his next move. 

Boldly, she reached down and grasped his arse, pulling him hard against her. A gasp flew from him with the added pressure and spurred him into action. Sliding his hand under the fabric of her jacket and tank top, his fingers inched up until they reached the satin fabric of her bra. Tentatively, he covered her breast with his hand, and she rewarded him with a guttural moan. The sound seemed to excite him further and encouraged him to gently knead the cloth covered flesh as he dropped his lips from hers to drift lightly along her jaw. 

Arching her back up to encourage him, she let her head fall back to allow him better access to her neck. He seemed to like this, and pressed firmer kisses against her skin there as his hand slid across her chest to cup her other breast. 

That was when blinking golden lights began flashing behind her closed lids. Oh no. Not again. It must be the bloody wine. Well… she wasn’t going to let it ruin her evening this time.

“John,” she heard herself say before she even realized she was going to. “We should… should we maybe…?” she said, gently stopping him and indicating they should move this upstairs.

“Oh. Right. Yes. Good idea. Brilliant idea, really,” he agreed breathily. Backing off of her to stand, he helped her to her feet, claiming her lips once again before taking her hand to pull her to the stairs. 

Once there, though, to her surprise, he stopped her. “Rose… I should tell you…” he said, taking both her hands to stand facing her at the base of the stairs, “I, uh… it’s been a while since… well, since I’ve done this,” he admitted.

Her worry about what he was stopping them for melted away and she looked at him tenderly. Reaching up, she cupped his cheek. “I just wanna be with you, John. That doesn’t matter to me,” she said. “Besides… it’s not like I do this all the time either. Only a few times in my life. Does that bother you?” she asked, suddenly wondering if she should be worried about that. Maybe he was telling her about himself because he was hoping she had more experience?

A soft smile spread on his lips. “No. Not at all. I guess… I just wanted you to know… I realize we’ve only been out a few times, but… well, I feel like… I mean, I don’t mean to sound sappy or anything, but it _does_ feel like I’ve known you much longer, you know? And this… I’m just not a shag ‘em and leave ‘em sort, yeah?” he said hopefully.

Rose knew exactly what he meant. What he was asking. “I’m not either,” she shared, moving to stand on the first step, so she was literally face to face with him. 

“Right,” he said, a wide grin lighting his gorgeous features. 

“Come ‘ere,” she demanded, pulling him into a heated snog which he passionately reciprocated. 

The lights she’d seen earlier once again began twinkling in her mind, and along with them, the warm lightheadedness she’d experienced last night returned. No. She wasn’t going be dissuaded. This was all merely some unusual side-effect of the wine drinking, which she was going to have to give up if this was what was going to happen each time she had a few.

Minutes later they were up in John’s room, removing each other’s clothes in an almost desperate frenzy. Falling onto the bed, hands roamed and mouths crashed bruisingly. There was no subtlety or softness. This was need. For both of them, it seemed. It was as if they’d waited their whole lives for this moment and now that it was here, they were both afraid it might be taken from them. There would be time for finesse and soft exploration later.

It wasn’t long before John had Rose pressed against the bed, her legs spread and his pelvis centered. Urging him forward, she lifted her hips and pushed against him. “Rose, we should… I don’t have any...” he nearly whispered using all his control, clearly remembering they should use protection.

“ ‘S alright,” she assured him, bringing her hand up to stroke the side of his face. “I’m clean and I’m on the pill.”

A brilliant smile lit his face. “Me too,” he grinned widely before quickly correcting, “... being clean, I mean. I’m not on the pill, of course. But it’s brilliant you are,” he rambled before Rose touched her finger to his lips. Bringing her legs up, she wrapped them around John’s back and pushed him forward so the head of his cock found her centre.

A gasp left him and his eyes flew wide open. “I need you,” Rose whispered, spurring him on by digging her heels into his backside. 

At her insistence, John pushed forward to sheathe himself fully. Despite the sudden increase in the brightness of the lights sparkling in her mind she felt herself moan with the delicious intrusion, feeling her body stretch to accommodate him. Fully encased, John stilled for a moment to let her adjust, and she thought she heard him whisper “My precious Rose,” before he slowly pulled out to push himself home again. 

With his movement the flashes she’d been doing her best to push aside now became completely impossible to ignore and along with them the lightheadedness she’d been nursing jumped in intensity to become a full on feeling of flying. Fear gripped her. What the hell was going on? Maybe they should stop…

Just as she was about to halt the proceedings, the weightlessness became accompanied by such an intense feeling of euphoria that it made her gasp. It was pure joy. It seemed to radiate around and through her. Her body almost felt like it had given up its form in favour of becoming sheer bliss. This was… heaven. Closing her eyes tightly, she felt her body completely give in to this new sensation. 

As if sensing this, John picked up his pace then, moving in and out of her with increased fervour, and she heard herself moan low and long in response. This was beyond anything she’d ever experienced. She seemed to exist only as a conduit for joy. It was… exquisite. They were lying on his bed… she knew that. But at the same time, they weren’t. They were floating. They were the only tangible things in the universe. There was nothing else… only them. The feeling of being filled, inside and out… the feeling of his essence surrounding her… she’d never felt so complete. 

Almost lost in the ethereal brilliance of the experience, she startled when an insistent, probing warmth began pulsing around her consciousness as if requesting entrance. John. Somehow… it was John. She just knew it. A very small part of her… a part of her that had some awareness of what was really happening… became slightly alarmed. The rest of her, though… the rest of her… her body and her mind… wanted this. _Needed it_. More than breathing. More than life.

Unsure exactly how to allow him in, she simply… willed it. A previously unknown door flew open then and a deluge of intense affection and passionate arousal flooded her mind. 

“Gods!” she heard John shout. “Rose… Jesus!” he gasped, his pace increasing. 

The auditory proof that her body was still there… still on the bed with him… suddenly grounded her. He was still there, though… in her mind and pumping in and out of of her body. A spiral of pleasure surfed through her and she knew without knowing how, that she was feeling John’s building climax. Her own body responded in kind and a shot of want wrapped around her so tightly that it suddenly overtook her, making her spiral out of her body. 

It was unlike any orgasm she’d ever had. She was submersed in light and bliss. Around her, John’s ( _His_ ) heartfelt gratitude and long buried need and love for her surfaced and encased her. And it was… overwhelming. It was ancient and timeless. It was absolute. It was veracious. It was _Him_. 

Somewhere outside of her mind, she felt his essence spill into her as his body finished it’s journey. As he did, a golden light exploded in her mind. 

Then everything went black.


	8. The Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which our heroes face their fears.

### The Restoration : Chapter 8 - The Revelation

“Rose? Rose… wake up,” someone called from far away. So far away. “Rose… please,” the same concerned voice pleaded.

Something about his voice pulled at a primal part of her, demanding her immediate attention. The worry… the anxiety rolling toward her in frantic waves from its owner pushed at her insistently. It was imperative that she respond.

Prying her eyes open, she found John’s very concerned face studying hers. Relief flooded his features. “Oh, thank Gods. Rose... “ he said, smoothing back her hair and pressing a relieved kiss to her forehead.

“What happened?” she asked, feeling a confused fog beginning to recede. Looking around, she realized they were in his room, the bedside lamp acting as the only illumination.

A happy but incredulous chuckle escaped him. “I was gonna ask you that, Rose. We were… I mean, we had the most _incredible_ sex... and then…” he said, gesturing along the length of her, a worried frown once again finding his features, “you passed out. You’ve been out for about twenty minutes. I was about to call 999.”

Oh god. The shag. The lights… the floating. Indicating she wanted to sit, John helped her into that position and she rubbed her head. “I… I remember snogging on the stairs, and then… then we were up here on the bed…” she trailed off, trying to recall. 

“Yeah?” he said, expectantly.

“And then… then I started feeling dizzy… like last night. And there were these… lights. Just sort of flashin’...”

“Lights?” John asked, his face the picture of surprise. Suddenly, he stood and paced around the bed. “Do you remember anything else?” he asked expectantly.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she concentrated. “Um…” she started before popping her eyes open in startled remembrance. “Oh my god! You were in my head!” she announced, suddenly recalling the feeling of him visiting her mind. John swallowed visibly as Rose continued. “I thought… I mean… somehow it felt like we were... like you were… with me in my mind,” she tried to explain. 

John shook his head as a smile lit his face. “I… I thought that it must have been my imagination,” he said, obviously reliving something. “I felt it too, Rose. Like… I was somehow wrapped around your mind and then suddenly we were together… like we were… _one_ ,” he said, astounded by the idea. Then moving quickly to sit beside her he grabbed her hand. “If it really happened… and it must’ve if we both remember it… this is amazing, Rose. I mean… I could feel what you felt! It was… brilliant!” he said, his enthusiasm barely contained. 

Rose shook her head. “How can you actually be _excited_ about this? Can’t you see something very _wrong_ is going on here?” she asked incredulously.

“What? Rose… this is… it’s fantastic! Somehow, we were actually in each other’s minds!” he expounded, once again jumping to his feet to pace. “Do you know what this _means_? It means there is an entire level of human awareness that has yet to be fully tapped and explored...and for some reason, it took the two of us to unlock it! Rose… we’ve got to study this. We’ve got to figure out how we’re doing it,” he said, practically bouncing with excitement.

Alarm rose within her. “John… I think we need to take this slow,” she said, a definite unease taking hold. “What if… what if this was just a fluke? What if it never happens again? I mean… you said yourself you thought I should see the doctor, yeah? I _did_ pass out, after all. It’s probably just some… virus or somethin’,” she tried.

“What? No… it’s not a virus, Rose,” he said, and then stopped dead. “Wait. What if it _is_ a virus? Some… mutation? One that opens people’s minds to other’s?” he posited, lost in his own thought.

“If it’s a virus then I need to get rid of it,” Rose said, now truly anxious. 

“Yes, yes, of course,” John agreed, hopping to her bedside again. “But what if it’s not, Rose? The possibilities…” he said, once again lost in his thoughts. Finally he stated, “We should try again. Carefully. You know… if you start feeling overwhelmed we’ll stop. Can’t have you passing out again,” he concluded.

Rose felt her eyes widen in alarm before she responded, “Look, John. I’m not gonna shag you again just to… to… _experiment_.” 

A disappointed look fell over his features. “You don’t wanna shag me again?” he said, sounding hurt.

“No… it’s not that. I mean… no, I’m not gonna have sex with you just to test a theory,” she explained. “If we make love again, it’s gonna be for that reason… to make love,” she added, suddenly feeling vulnerable. It was like what they’d just done had been only to discover an interesting side effect. It meant more to her than that. 

Settling closer to her then, he took her hand. “Look, Rose… I told you before any of this happened that I’m not a shag ‘em and leave ‘em bloke, and I meant it. I’m sorry if I’m making it sound like it didn’t mean anything to me. It did,” he assured her, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “It really, really did. More than I ever thought it even could,” he admitted. “You mean a lot to me. More than I can even comprehend. Even if it had only been our bodies we shared… it would’ve been magnificent. But we shared _minds_ too, Rose. And it felt… I’ve never felt so close to anyone. Ever,” he said studying her face.

Annoyingly, tears sprung to her eyes. “Me too,” she shared. 

Leaning in, John captured her lips with his. They shared a long, warm snog before he pulled her into his arms for a reassuring hug. “I’ve never been with a woman who makes me feel like you do, Rose. And having sex with you… sharing _minds_ with you… it was like dancing among the stars,” he said tenderly.

Stiffening, Rose pulled back, her eyes wide. Once again, the words she’d read earlier today about Jasmine and Jonathan raced through her mind.

 

_Our next encounter happened soon after our last, but we didn’t stray far, despite his enthusiasm for the meeting, which seemed to indicate we were about to fly off and see the stars. We didn’t. We stayed close to home._

_Jonathan had packed a homemade meal which we ate by the light of the moon. We laughed, talked and watched the past become the future… our lives unfolding before us as we held hands looking only ahead. We spent the rest of the evening in each others arms, dancing among the stars._

 

Rose’s heart nearly stopped in her chest. Dancing. Dancing… shagging. The movie… the shag… they’d all been foretold. She just hadn’t read it right. She’d been too literal. It came true. All of it!

“Rose?” John asked, looking at her with concern; his brows furrowed.

“I… I have to go,” Rose said, her breath stilted and her heart hammering in her chest. She had to leave. She had to get out of here. There was something very wrong with this. With ALL of this. First the lights… then the mind reading...and now the bloody magical book?! No. It was too much.

“What? Why?” John said, watching her with alarm as she gathered her things and hastily tugged on her clothes. 

“I’m sorry… I just… I have to go,” she said, hurriedly, moving to the stairs and down to the front door. 

“Wait! Rose, wait!” John shouted from behind her as she darted out into the dark of the evening. 

“I’m sorry,” she shouted over her shoulder as she worked to put increased distance between herself and his house. 

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

What??? What had actually just happened? 

John watched with increasing worry as Rose disappeared in the distance. It didn’t make sense. Why was she running all of sudden? He stood for a few minutes in utter confusion just staring out into the empty street fighting the sudden intense urge to take off down the street after her. To close the ever widening gap between them. 

He couldn’t just run after her, though. She obviously didn’t want him anywhere near her for some reason. But… why? Why had she run? It didn’t make sense. 

Then again, his conscience whispered, you _did_ actually probably scare the bloody hell out of her with all your talk of recreating the ‘circumstances’ and all. For Gods’ sake… they’d shared their very first intimate moment and he’d turned it into a bloody science experiment! 

On one hand… he had to sort of forgive himself for his excitement. He’d seen the lights too. At first he thought he’d been the only one. The other night… when they’d snogged… he’d seen sparkling lights behind his closed lids. He’d just assumed he’d had a bit too much wine. Then she’d admitted she’d also had a few too many and it seemed to confirm his suspicions that he’d just partaken a bit too enthusiastically during dinner. 

Now, though… now he knew. He’d seen the lights again, and this time…. this time he knew she had too. She’d described them as well. Most importantly, though… they had been in each other’s _minds_. He’d seen into her consciousness and she’d seen into his. They had shared something… profound. Maybe _sacred_.

Not that having sex with Rose Tyler wouldn’t have been profound under any circumstances. Sex with Rose Tyler even before the lights and the mind… thing… had been fantastic. _She_ was fantastic. And he thought he’d sort of conveyed that with their chat just before she’d done a runner. 

Maybe she didn’t really believe it though. He _had_ gone a bit overboard with the whole ‘we should study this,’ thing. 

Sighing, John ran a hand through his hair. Damn it. He’d bollocked things up and now Rose was probably thinking she was just some curvy biology experiment to him. Fuck. Well, he had to make this right. Letting her think for even one more minute that what they’d shared was diminished because of his thoughtlessness… he couldn’t let that happen. And if he was honest… properly honest… while that was his most rational reason for going after her, an even more imperative one was for a much more base reason. 

Being apart from her… it was… wrong. Every cell in his body knew it. Seeing her run off… knowing she was putting more and more distance between them… it actually pulled at something inside him. It almost ached.

Grabbing his jacket, he left the house and headed down the street toward hers.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

Rose kept making her feet move her further from John’s house despite an almost inexplicable desire to turn around and run back to him. Every step that distanced her from him further seemed to make her almost ache inside. It felt as if there was a sort of… bungee between them that was becoming more and more taught with every step she took. 

Despite that, though, she determinedly pressed ahead. In fact, she ran even faster while replaying John’s last words to her over and over in her mind. _‘It was like dancing among the stars.’_ And it had been. But damn it… why… WHY did he have to refer to their… frankly fantastic... joining that way? Why did it have to actually be a perfect description of what had happened? Because… it _had_ been. It had been perfect. It _had_ been like dancing among the stars. 

By the time Rose arrived home, her lungs were burning and she felt as if her insides… no. Her _soul_. She felt as if her soul was being pulled from her body. This was _not_ where she was meant to be. Something inside her felt so _wrong_. So… alone. The feeling was so disturbing it could easily be called painful.

She didn’t have time to consider it further right now, though. She knew she wouldn’t be able to ignore the feeling for long, but right now she needed to see it again with her own eyes. The Book. Going straight to her room, she found it and opened it up. Everything in her heart was hoping she’d made a mistake. That she’d remembered it wrong. It was possible. Her memory had been less than stellar lately, after all. Wasn’t it possible she’d recalled the passage incorrectly? 

Finding the page she was looking for, she traced her way down the page until she got to the correct paragraph. 

 

_We spent the rest of the evening in each others arms, dancing among the stars._

 

Oh god. It was exactly as she’d remembered it. She felt panic rise inside her again. 

No. She wasn’t gonna let this drive her mad. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she tried to think about this rationally. After all… what did any of this actually mean to her? To her life? This book somehow had foreseen her future, sure, but… really… as odd and somehow _magical_ as it was, there was a limit to it’s ability to predict the next parts of her life. She’d read it to the end, after all, and it had ended only a paragraph after this passage. And then… nothing. It was gibberish, the rest of it. So really… even if it _was_ prophetic, there was a limit, and it was more or less met. There was nothing this book could foretell now that could hurt her. 

Flipping the page to read past the portion that had her so flustered, she sucked in a surprised breath. The page was now filled with legible words. 

Oh my god. But… it had all been just… nonsense before. Blinking, she tried to clear her eyes, assuming she’d imagined the clearly English words decorating the page before her. Nope. They were real. And legible. Flipping a few pages ahead, she found that at least two more pages were filled with actual readable words. 

Dear God. This fucking book was the real deal. Not only was the content of this narrative predictive… it was actually _evolving_. It was presenting itself in real time. 

Swallowing, she let her eyes actually linger on the words long enough to let them sink in. 

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

John raced to Rose’s place, feeling the ache in his mind and heart diminish slightly the closer he got. He was sure it was a product of knowing he’d soon make this right. How though? Continuing on, he tried to formulate exactly how he was going to convince her he wasn’t a prat. 

There would definitely be a massive apology followed by a (hopefully) convincing speech about how he’d been a thoughtless dolt. Because he had. He’d tried to rectify that fact by apologizing, but clearly he hadn’t convinced her. He’d do better this time. He had to.

Before he even rounded the corner to her walkway, he felt her proximity settle over him like a warm, comforting blanket. She was close. He let the feeling soothe him for a moment before he actually questioned it. How did he _know_ she was close? It was like he could… feel it.

Of course she was close, he reasoned logically then. He was only metres from her front door, for heaven’s sake. It was just plain relief he was feeling, that’s all. And not just because he was close to her again, but because he was going to fix this. 

Rounding the corner, his eyes on the sidewalk, he was met with a very familiar voice.

“It’s not your fault.” 

Startled, he looked up to find Rose standing just in front of the building doors. Her arms were crossed protectively in front of her and her face betrayed her anxiety. Oh God. He’d _really_ messed this up.

“And I know what you’re thinking,” she said, her voice tremulous. “You’re thinking that you’ve made a huge mistake. And the whole way here you’ve been working out exactly how you’re going to apologize,” she catalogued. 

“What?” he said, caught off guard. 

Walking forward, Rose closed the distance between them. “But it’s not your fault,” she said assuredly before wrapping her arms around him. Both relief and worry emanated from her.

Confused but desperately relieved, John returned the embrace. “But… I _am_ sorry, Rose. What we did…”

“I know, John. I promise. I know. It meant the same to me, okay? And I know you didn’t mean to minimize what happened between us,” she assured him, still tightly holding him. “I’m sorry I ran. Just… something scared me.”

Squeezing her even tighter, he pressed a kiss to crown of her head, soaking in the soothing nearness of her. “What was it? Whatever it is… maybe I can help?” he suggested after a moment, wondering what could possibly have scared her so much when he hadn’t even noticed anything out of the ordinary. They stood together for another minute without her answering before he pulled back to study her face. “You can tell me Rose. Whatever it is,” he encouraged.

“John… I have to tell you something,” she said nervously, pausing for a moment to bite her lower lip before adding, “but I’m scared it’s gonna send you runnin’ from me as fast as you can.” Her whiskey brown eyes stared up into his seeming both hopeful and terrified. 

Suddenly John felt a spike of fear shoot through him. Gods. Was this when she admitted that she was scared of committing to something longer than just tonight? Or that she was frightened of limiting herself to just one person at her age?

“And no,” she actually smirked then, “I’m not interested in dating anyone else and I _do_ think we could have a long future together if you feel the same way I do,” she confirmed.

A wave of relief flowed through him before he tensed. “Rose… are you… you’re reading my mind,” he stated in awe.

She smiled almost sadly this time. “No… it’s something even more bizarre than that, I’m afraid,” she explained, worry marring her otherwise gorgeous features.

“Rose,” he broached, taking her hands, “... whatever it is, I’m sure it can’t be much weirder than what happened earlier,” he said. Suddenly he realized how that statement could be misconstrued. “Uh… I mean… not that what we did was _weird_. In any way. It was fantastic. Definitely not weird. What I mean is that what happened with the lights and the mind… thing…” he babbled in an effort to repair his verbal misstep.

Rose actually laughed then and grabbed him for another hug. 

“Are you laughing at me, Rose Tyler,” he said, working to sound hurt.

“Maybe a bit,” she admitted, still chuckling as she looked up into his eyes. “You’re adorable when you ramble,” she informed him.

“Ramble?” he said incredulously. “I’ll have you know, I don’t _ramble_. I… think aloud,” he said, revising her statement.

Rose smiled. “Alright. You ‘think aloud’,” she conceded. Then, taking a deep breath in and blowing it out, she said, “John… I wasn’t going to share this with you, mostly because I was scared you’d think I was barmy. But… well… as far as I can tell, I’m _supposed_ to show it to you, so why fight fate?” she said rather cryptically. 

“What is it? Whatever it is, you don’t need to worry. I promise not to run screaming from your flat,” he assured her, caressing her hair.

“Yeah, well… you haven’t seen it yet. I wouldn’t make any promises if I were you,” she warned. 

“Weeeellll… I don’t scare easily,” he informed her confidently. “Whatever this is, we’ll deal with it, alright?”

Rose smiled, looking up at him thankfully. “Okay,” she almost whispered.

With that, they made their way, hand in hand, inside the building. He was apparently about to face something quite upsetting if her warning was to be heeded. And something told him that Rose wasn’t the type to exaggerate. This was something worth being frightened about.


	9. The Violation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are definitely dangerous for our pair at the moment. Er... Enjoy(?)

### The Restoration : Chapter 9 - The Violation

A thousand possibilities swirled in John’s mind as they approached Rose’s flat. Whatever lay beyond that door was something that had her very upset. Upset enough to send her running from his house earlier.

Steeling himself, he followed her through the door and into the apartment. Taking his hand, Rose lead him to her room and gestured for him to sit on her bed. 

Doing as suggested, he settled himself and watched her as she moved to the window to open it. Taking a steadying breath of the fresh air now filling the room, she began pacing the floor before him chewing absently on her thumbnail. 

“Okay. Do you remember the night we first met in the library? When I bumped into you?” she started.

“Yeah,” he answered. 

“Well… I’d been looking at books for my paper on the Restoration when I found this,” she said, turning to her desk to pick up something. Turning, she held it up to show him. It was a small, leatherbound book. 

“Okay,” he frowned. It looked like… a book. Nothing too frightening as far as he could see. 

“It’s called ‘The Restoration: A Romance.’ I thought it must be a fictional romance set in the 1600’s. Turns out it was. Sort of,” she supplied. 

Reaching out, he gestured for Rose to hand it to him. Reluctantly, she did.

‘J. H. Beauchesne.’ Why did that name ring a bell? He must’ve heard it before… but where? Maybe he or she had written something about the Renaissance as well. John had leafed through many a text during the couple of days he’d spent in the library waiting for Rose to appear. Perhaps this author had penned one of the many books he’d purused. 

A dull headache began to make itself known then, and he rubbed absently at his temple while opening the cover of the hide covered publication. The first thing his eyes found was handwritten text. “Blimey,” he breathed.

“Yeah. Pretty amazin’. I thought I’d hit on something big when I realized the pages weren’t even from a printing press. I figured it must be an autobiography written hundreds of years ago, seein’ as how the book seems so old,” she supplied.

He had to agree with her initial assessment. The text definitely seemed aged based on the binding and the paper itself, which had an unusual texture.

Something niggled at the back of his mind as he rubbed the paper between his fingers. It was like… like…

Suddenly the intensity of his headache swelled and a wave of pain rolled through his head. Squeezing his eyes shut, he pressed his hand to his forehead.

“John? Are you alright?” Rose’s worried voice pressed as he felt her weight dip the bed beside him. 

Opening his eyes, he found he’d dropped the book on the floor. “Uh… yeah. I’m okay,” he reassured her, not quite being truthful. The pain was receding now, but had caught him by surprise. “Just a headache all of a sudden. Just… tired… I guess,” he said. 

“You sure?” she asked, studying his face for a moment. 

The pain had dulled to almost nothing now. “Yeah. It’s gone now,” he smiled at her reassuringly. 

Narrowing her eyes suspiciously as if unsure whether to believe him, she bent down to pick up the book. “Alright. But maybe we should call it a night, yeah? What if you’re getting sick?” she worried, rubbing circles on John’s back. It felt heavenly, even if it was slightly distracting from the reason they’d come into her room.

“No, I’m fine, Rose. Honestly,” he assured her squeezing the hand resting on the book in her lap. “Now tell me more about this book,” he encouraged. “You said you think it’s old, yeah?”

Still looking unsure, she finally acquiesced and opened the book. Taking a deep breath, she nodded at it. “Yeah. I do. Or… I did. I’m not sure anymore,” she said, almost to herself. “Basically… I started reading it, and it’s about this girl. Her name was Jasmine and she lived in this town. Her Dad died when she was a baby and her Mum…” she paused, emotion clogging her throat. “Her Mum died just before she went off to uni.”

John put his arm around her reassuringly. She’d told him her mother had passed away just before she’d come to school here. This character experiencing the same thing she had… it must’ve hit her hard. 

“At first I thought… I thought it was just a coincidence. That she had gone through her mother’s death just like I had with my Mum. But then… then the next part… it was kind of crazy,” she said, looking at him almost apologetically. 

“What happened?” he asked, his curiosity more than peaked.

Sighing, Rose looked at her hands. “She met this bloke. At a library,” she said, looking back up into his eyes. “He was tall. And handsome. And studying astronomy,” she said, letting her words hang in the air between them.

John stared back at her as the words slowly filtered through his disbelieving ears. “So this bloke…” he started.

“His name was Jonathan,” she filled in.

For the first time in a long time, he felt himself left wondering what to say. It was just a crazy coincidence, surely. After all… it was a book written ages ago. How could it possibly...

“You’re thinking it must just be a coincidence, right? How could a book written so long ago actually know what is happening here and now,” she informed him. 

“How…” he said, his jaw dropping.

“Because, John… I read it. I read it all in the book,” she explained. 

He shook his head. How could this be?

“It talked about our meeting in the library… then our visit to the coffee shop… then… then…” she trailed off.

“Then?” he said, encouraging her to continue.

“Then it talked about tonight. About… us,” she added. 

He felt his eyebrows furrow. “So… this… Jasmine… she talks about us… shagging?” he asked, trying to sort out what she was saying.

“Well… not in so many words. It’s all sort of… poetic. Like, you kinda have to read into it, you know?” she explained, picking up the book and leafing through it. Finding the page she had obviously been looking for, she read aloud.

 

_“Jonathan had packed a homemade meal which we ate by the light of the moon. We laughed, talked and watched the past become the future… our lives unfolding before us as we held hands looking only ahead. We spent the rest of the evening in each others arms, dancing among the stars.”_

 

John listened as she quoted the passage. If you read between the lines, it really did sound a lot like their evening. And if what she’d said about the rest of the book was true…

“I’d been trying to tell myself that so far it had just been a mad coincidence. That the bloke’s name being Jonathan and him bein’ a Doctoral student in astronomy… that it was all just some wild parallel story of my life written purely by accident by some girl I’d never met. But when you said… tonight when you kissed me and told me that what we… that when we made love it had been like ‘dancin’ among the stars’... I knew it couldn’t all just be some sort of accident. This book…” she emphasized by jabbing it with her finger, “it’s actually tellin’ the story of my life,” she said, worry etched on her beautiful features.

This was all so fantastical. What had happened earlier between them… now this. This… soothsaying book. A long moment passed as his brain worked to somehow process all this.

“Say something,” Rose entreated, her voice small beside him. Darting his eyes to hers, he felt his mouth open and close, but nothing intelligent came out.

“You think I’m barmy, don’t you?” she worried, biting her lip, her eyes filling. “Well, I’m not. I know I’m not. Just like I know your parents both died in a car accident when you were young. Just like I know that you hate pears and that you once owned a yellow roadster and you actually named it ‘Bessie’,” she informed him, now standing, hands on hips as she stood facing him.

John felt his jaw swing loose on its hinges. “Rose… I…”

 

But she was on a roll. “Just like I know you had a dog you actually named ‘K-9’ and that you eat jam straight from the jar with your fingers!” she expounded.

“Rose!” he interjected loudly, standing to take her by the arms. Frustration and hurt emanated from her in waves. “Rose,” he said more calmly as she seemed to settle a bit, “I believe you. _I believe you_.” 

Her chin quivered slightly and the tears she’d been nursing actually fell in beads down her cheeks. “You do?” she said, her voice wavering.

“Yeah. I do,” he assured her. After tonight… after what happened between us… I’ll believe pretty much anything. And whatever this book has to say… it seems we shouldn’t ignore it. It seems to know more about me than even my mates do,” he chuckled.

The lighter moment seemed to break the tension and Rose actually giggled as she moved in for a hug. Wrapping his arms protectively around her, he pressed a kiss into her hair. “I promise we’ll figure out what’s going on, yeah? The two of us together.”

“Yeah. Together sounds good,” she agreed, tightening her grip on him. 

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

They spent the rest of the evening reading the book up to the point where it once again turned into a meaningless combinations of letters. When Rose explained how the book had somehow ‘translated’ the gibberish for her after she’d arrived home this evening, John had been amazed. And… God help her… he actually seemed to be _appreciative_ of the book’s abilities. After they’d put the book down for the night, John chattered away about the possible technology involved in developing such a marvel and where it could possibly have been created. 

It was deep into the wee hours of the morning before they both agreed they should try to sleep. John offered to head home, but that was the last thing she wanted, and he seemed to be visibly relieved that she felt that way. 

Getting ready for bed, they stripped down to their pants and Rose pulled on a loose tank top. Spooning on her bed with John’s arm wrapped around her, it wasn’t long before she felt his body relax and his breathing slow. 

Lying against him, she reflected on the evening. She hated that she’d started crying over all this in front of him. She was a strong, independent, self-reliant person, and crying over a book… as frightening as it was… went against her grain. Still, she couldn’t help but admit it felt good to show that side of her to someone. And now, with his arm draped over her protectively and his body snug against hers, she couldn’t deny how comforting it was to have someone there to support her. 

Allowing that thought to soothe her, she felt herself drift into slumber. As reality dimmed, images of John flitted through her mind, finally settling on one of him standing before a set of faded blue, wood panelled doors. As in her last dream of him, he emanated a confidence and a kind of power that felt more than formidable. Around him the atmosphere seemed somehow charged, as if his energy was electrifying the very air around him. His gaze was again intense, and seemed to burrow into her consciousness. Last time he’d exuded a sort of thrill for life and seemed to be radiating an almost tangible joy. This time, though, John’s… ( _His_ )... demeanor was definitely serious and there was nothing light-hearted about his countenance.

_’Something’s in the air,’_ he said, his eyes dark, his gaze unwavering. Suddenly, behind him, the weathered doors flew open to reveal a universe of stars. A rush of air pushed toward her with such force that it stole air from her lungs. Opening her mouth to try to draw in breath, and suddenly she felt an overwhelming pressure pushing through her. It snaked its way through her body and finally moved into her mind. A crushing heaviness pressed against the confines of her mind, making her cry out. In stereo, his voice echoed ominously around and somehow through her. _’Something’s coming...’_

Rose’s eyes flew open and her body stiffened as she desperately worked to pull oxygen into her starved lungs. It took a moment, but finally blessed air travelled through her gaping mouth and into her body.

From beside her, she became aware that John’s startled voice was calling for her. 

“I’m okay… I’m okay,” she assured him, gasping for breath. 

Warm arms encased her. “Gods, Rose… you scared me. That must’ve been some nightmare,” he concluded, brushing her hair from her face.

“Yeah,” she agreed, enjoying the fact that her heartrate was finally slowing. Taking a reassuring breath, she blew it out noisily between her lips. “It seemed so… real,” she said, almost to herself.

“Well it was just a dream, love,” he assured her, kissing her forehead.

A warm wave pushed through her with the casual use of the endearment. 

“I’m here. I’m not leaving,” he promised, squeezing her a bit tighter.

“Thank-you,” she whispered, kissing him lightly under the jaw. 

“Now sleep, Rose Tyler. I’ve got you.”

Nestling into him, she tucked her head under his chin and breathed him in. He was here. She would be safe as long as they were together.


	10. The Passage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter up! Thanks so much for all your support so far for this fic!
> 
> Warning: There is reference to non-con in this chapter. If you’re not comfortable reading and want to skip this chapter, feel free to message me and I can fill you in on the plot.

### The Restoration : Chapter 10 - The Passage

Waking in John’s arms was the best feeling in the world, Rose decided as she lay quietly, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest against her back.

Lifting her head slightly to get a look at the clock, she realized that ‘The Book,’ as she now thought of it, was blocking her view. Carefully extracting her arm from under John’s, she picked it up and looked at the time. 9:10. She was about to put the novel back down, but suddenly decided against it. What if there were new pages now? It had been a whole night… maybe a certain number of hours needed to pass before it decoded any more of the text? 

Despite her slight reticence, she decided to check and flipped through the pages until she found the last legible one. Only one new paragraph had appeared, but its very presence made her blood run cold. Looking away from the text for a moment to dart a glance in John’s direction, she considered waking him to read it. 

John groaned unhappily in his sleep then, making something deep inside Rose stir. His eyes were still closed, but his face looked anxious. A strong, protective feeling welled up in her. She needed to comfort him. He shouldn’t feel distressed. Ever.   
As much as she understood logically that that was impossible, she couldn’t quiet the overwhelming desire...no… NEED… that she had to calm him. 

“Shhh… it’s okay,” she heard herself whispering before she even realized she’d decided to say anything. “I’m here,” she assured him. Just as she was about to run her fingers through his hair, his features smoothed over and he smacked his lips adorably. 

For a moment she considered waking him to make sure he didn’t start dreaming again, but… no… she should just let him sleep. After what she put him through last night, he probably needed it. 

Letting her body relax again after it’s sudden alert state, she looked back at the book, remembering the new passage. Sighing, she considered waiting until John woke to read it, but she quickly dismissed the notion. Now that she knew there was more written, she had to know what it said. Letting her eyes fall back to the page open before her, she reluctantly started reading. 

 

_Morning came without a hint of the violation that had befallen me during the hours between sunset and sunrise. Jonathan had been defiled too, which made me ache inside. Nothing bad should befall the wonderful man who lay beside me. The very thought tore at my soul. Still, a seed of hope remained. Our joining had fortified and strengthened the resolve of my beloved to protect me. The very power of the love we had unleashed together had awakened a sleeping lion in him. One that stood guard against the kind of intrusion he had suffered._

 

Intrusion. What intrusion?! Fear and anxiety enveloped her making her suddenly nauseous. Closing her eyes, she tried to force herself to think back to the night before. They’d talked about the book until the wee hours and then finally fell asleep. She had dreamed… a bad dream, if she remembered right. Other than that… nothing. She had no memory of any ‘violation’. 

Turning her head to look at John, she studied him for a moment. The passage said he’d been been ‘defiled’ as well. Surely if he’d been assaulted in some way, he wouldn’t be sleeping so soundly.

John hummed unhappily then, his chest rumbling against her back. Opening his eyes slowly, a worried expression decorated his features. “You alright?” he offered as his first words of the day, his voice raspy from sleep.

“Yeah… sorry if I woke you,” she replied, somehow aware that she’d been the one to pull him from slumber. 

Pressing a kiss to her cheek, he nodded toward the book in her hands. “Doing some early reading, I see,” he observed.

Looking back at the offending object, she nodded. “Yeah.”

“Anything new?” he asked, shifting to get a better look at the writing.

Rose nodded, anxiety once again gripping her. Turning over onto her back, she handed the open book to him and pointed to the passage. They lay quietly for a few moments while he read. When he was done he put the book down and stared at the ceiling. 

“What does it mean, do you think?” she asked after a few more moments of tense silence. “I don’t remember anything about being ‘violated’ last night. What happened? Do you remember anything?” she asked, hoping he could shed some light on the ominous text.

John’s brows furrowed in concentration as he clearly worked to make sense of what he’d read. Finally he merely shook his head and said, “I don’t… there’s nothing I can think of. I don’t recall anything unusual, other than that you had a bad dream,” he shared, concern playing across his features. “You were pretty shaken up… but then you went back to sleep. I couldn’t get back to sleep right away, so I sort of… got up and watched telly for a bit. I may’ve made myself a jam sandwich,” he added sheepishly before continuing, “When I came back to bed you were sleeping. There was nothing out of place that I can recall.”

“I’m sorry I woke you,” Rose apologized. 

John shook his head. “Oh… I’m not one for sleeping the whole night through as a rule, so don’t feel badly about waking me up. Only need a couple hours a night, really,“ he assured her. “Anyway… what’s important is that nothing odd happened while I was awake.” 

Rose pushed her hands through her hair. “Well then, I don’t know what it’s talking about,” she said in frustration. Damn it. What the hell was the stupid book on about then? Suddenly she had another disturbing thought. What if… if she’d… if _they_... had been actually physically ‘violated’ somehow during the night and for some reason they couldn’t remember it? She swallowed thickly. If they _had_ been, surely they’d have tried to fight back? She didn’t feel any pain anywhere, but… 

Working up her courage, she said, “John… what if… what if something or some _one_ got in here last night and we don’t remember?” she posited. “I mean… the book said that whatever it was tried to ‘defile’ you, but that it didn’t work, but that for some reason, it actually _did_ manage to violate me somehow,” she reviewed. “If something _did_ happen…” she paused, trying to once again rally her courage before she ventured, “I know this might sound barmy, but… could you, er… check me? I mean… I don’t _feel_ anything, but maybe I’ve got, like, bruises or something?” 

“Good idea. Let’s have a look at you,” John agreed without hesitation. He actually seemed relieved to be able to _do_ something to make sure she was okay. 

Sitting up, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and turned away from him to pull off the tank top she’d put on the night before. This wasn’t quite the scenario she’d envisioned when she imagined getting naked for him again, but she wasn’t about to follow that train of thought at the moment.

She felt him shift in the bed as he moved to sit behind her. A shiver flittered down her spine and she felt goosebumps rise as John gently moved her hair to the side so he could see her upper back. He was quiet for a moment before his fingers ghosted over her shoulder and down her arm. 

“Can you lift?” he requested, gently encouraging her to lift up her arm so he could see her side. Doing as he asked, she sat still for a moment feeling his eyes rake over her skin. 

“Nothing so far,” he advised. “Can you lift your other arm?” he asked.

Once again, she complied. Despite the sinister reason for this activity, she had to admit it was difficult not to let this ‘examination’ become more than just that in her mind. She was quite aware, after all, that in addition to getting a good view of her ribs, he was also getting a decent eye full of sideboob as well. Bless him, though… he was definitely keeping this ‘professional’. He was obviously trying to make this as easy for her as he could given the circumstances.

“Alright… maybe… could you stand up? Or you could lie on your front so I can see the back of your legs?” he suggested. 

“Oh, sure,” she agreed, deciding to just stand beside the bed facing away from him. “How’s this?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at him. 

“Good. Fine. Molto bene,” he replied, obviously trying not to sound affected by having her backside practically in his face. Despite the rather pleasant idea of having John ogle her bottom, a decidedly _un_ pleasant idea quickly took its place. What if she had bruises… there? Where he couldn’t currently see?

Contemplating _that_ particular type of violation hadn’t actually occurred to her before now. But what if? The very idea she’d been somehow violated without her knowledge was bad enough, but considering it could’ve been… she might’ve been…

Concentrating on her privates to see if she could sense anything unusual… any aches or pains… she thankfully came up with nothing. Still… what if…

“Could you, um, spread your legs a bit?” John asked, his voice calm and obviously purposefully controlled. Doing as he asked, she stood still before him, waiting for him to finish his visual examination. 

“Nothing. No bruises or anything I can see,” he shared, still sounding concerned. “Rose… do you, uh… do you want me to check… you know… _everywhere_?” he asked gently.

Swallowing, she felt herself begin to tremble. She was surprised how disturbing it was to hear the idea alluded to aloud. 

“Oi,” he said, immediately standing and turning her around to pull her into a tight hug. “I don’t have to, yeah? And it’s not because I think anything _did_ happen,” he assured her. “So far so good. I don’t see any evidence you were anywhere but in bed with me last night, alright?” he soothed.

Nodding into his chest, she gathered herself together. He was right. Probably nothing happened last night. But it would be better to be sure. To make sure there was no bruises or… any other evidence of… anything.

“It’s okay. I think… if you’re okay with doin’ it… I’d rather be sure,” she suggested. 

Looking down at her with a concerned smile, he nodded. “I don’t mind… and honestly it’d put my mind at ease as well,” he admitted. 

“Okay,” she agreed, once again completely taken by this man. He was being so incredibly sweet. Really, if he had any sense he’d have run for the hills by now. Instead, he was standing here offering to look at her privates in the name of science. 

The thought made her giggle out loud. How ludicrous.

“What?” he said, pulling away to look into her eyes. 

Staring up into his concerned brown orbs, she couldn’t help but let another giggle escape her. 

“What?” he repeated, unable to keep a smile from creeping onto his own face.

“It’s just… this entire thing is barmy,” she explained, giggling through the words.

A chuckle escaped him as well, then. “Yeah, I suppose it is,” he grinned.

“Well… let’s get this over with,” Rose suggested, allowing the brief moment of levity to give her courage. Bending down, she picked up her discarded shirt and pulled it over her head before crawling onto the bed to lay on her back in the middle of it.

Climbing on beside her, John looked away while she removed her knickers. It was silly, really, him looking away. He’d seen her in all her naked glory only last night, but this was different and they both knew it. 

“Okay,” she said once she’d finished. 

John turned back toward her, being careful to keep his eyes on hers. Spreading her legs, she pulled her knees up like she would at the doctor’s office and looked away from him to stare determinedly at the ceiling. 

She felt the bed dip with his weight as he repositioned himself to kneel before her exposed centre. After a moment, he said, “No bruises I can see,” he said, sounding relieved. After another moment he added, “And… no, er… evidence… of other intrusion.” 

She felt his hands light on her knees encouraging her to lower them. She looked down to find him climbing back to sit beside her and she used the opportunity to quickly reach for her knickers. Sliding them over her legs, she felt her cheeks burning. “Thanks,” she said quietly, suddenly quite reticent to actually make eye contact with him. It was stupid, she knew, but she couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. He was hardly her doctor, after all, and she’d made the poor bloke...

“Hey,” she heard him say at the same time she felt his hand on her arm. Looking up reluctantly, she found him studying her. “Come here,” he said, pulling her gently toward him. 

Accepting his invitation, she nestled against him as he wrapped his arms around her. “It’s gonna be alright,” he said decidedly. “We’re gonna sort this out. I promise,” he assured her.

“Yeah,” was all she could muster in response at the moment. Allowing his warmth to soothe her, she slowly let her muscles relax a bit. Whatever the book had been alluding to… so far there was no proof that it was true. There was no evidence that anyone but them had been in the flat last night. And If she’d actually been harmed in some way during the night, there was no physical sign of that. On top of that, John had no memory of anything unusual happening. Maybe it was wrong? It hadn’t been so far, but perhaps it’s prophetic abilities weren’t always spot on?

They lay quietly for a minute or two, considering what they’d read. John’s body tensed a bit beside her. “Rose… you know how the book talked about how we were attacked last night?” John said, his voice tight. “Well… it didn’t say anything about your flatmate. Was she home last night?” he asked. Suddenly he let out a gasp.

Pulling back to look at him, Rose found him squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Are you okay?” she asked, worry for him trickling through her. He was obviously in pain. 

“Yeah… just a headache,” he explained before repeating his earlier statement, “but, really, Rose… if she was home… we need to make sure she hasn’t been hurt,” he stated seriously, obviously still fighting the pain in his head.

Rose shook her head. No. This was something more than just a headache. Something much more. “John… I don’t have a flatmate. I live alone, remember?” she reminded him, her worry for him now skyrocketing.

John’s brows furrowed. “Of course you do. She was here last night. She saw us out of the flat,” he replied, now rubbing both temples with the pads of his fingers.

Oh god. He really _was_ ill. “John… I haven’t had a flatmate since I moved here. I had enough money from Mum to rent the place on my own,” she informed him. 

John sat up then, his face serious as he studied her for a moment. “Rose… I’m not wrong. She was here. Yesterday. She said good-bye to us both before we left for my place. She was in her jimjams…” he trailed off, worry now evident on his features.

Rose sat up as well now. “John… something’s wrong. I think… I think maybe… maybe you’ve got the same virus as me. You remember we talked about me sometimes not rememberin’ things?” she said, moving to sit up on her knees and putting her hand to his forehead. He didn’t feel feverish.

John’s jaw dropped. “Wait. That’s it, Rose! That’s it! It’s been staring us in the face and we haven’t seen it!” he expounded, pushing his hands through his hair in amazement. 

“What? What is?!” she said, now truly worried.

Practically bouncing from the bed, he began pacing the room. “Gods! I’m so _thick!_ You _were_ violated last night, Rose, but not like we thought. Someone… or some _thing_ was inside your mind,” he informed her.

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean someone _did_ come in here last night. I don’t know how…” he said, looking about before his gaze stuck on window. Pointing emphatically, he announced, “That’s how, Rose. He came in through the window!”

“What?! What did, John? You’re scaring me,” she said, studying the open window.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure who or _what_ could do something like this, but it makes sense. The book was right, Rose. Someone took something from you. And the ‘intrusion’ the book talked about… something took your memories,” he explained.

Rose felt her jaw drop open. The passage. Could he be right? _Had_ it come true? “Oh, my god,” she breathed.

Then a thought came to her. “Wait… but if someone stole my memories, why didn’t they steal yours as well? I mean… of course that’s the last thing I’d ever want, but… why me?” she asked. 

John’s brows furrowed. “I don’t know. But then… the book did say that I was attacked as well but that there was something protecting me. So maybe they tried to take my memories as well, but for some reason, it didn’t work,” he said, clearly pondering the possibility.

The ramifications of his theory were just sinking in when he blurted, “Wait!” nearly making her jump out of her skin. “Remember the other day when you asked me about my housemates?” he asked pointedly. 

Gathering herself from the jolt of John’s excited outburst, Rose cast her mind back but came up with nothing. Shaking her head, she said, “No, sorry. I don’t remember. “Why? What did I say?”

“We were talking about me nagging them about tidying, and you asked me about ‘my other flatmate’. A… Charles? No. Charlie. Yeah… you asked why ‘Charlie’ wouldn’t be helping straighten the house and I told you I didn’t have a flatmate named Charlie, remember?” he prodded.

Rose thought back, trying to recall anything about another roommate she’d apparently asked him about. Nope. Nothing. She didn’t remember anything about another roommate, let alone her asking after one. “No… I’m sorry, John. I really don’t remember,” she said. “Do you… you don’t think you really actually had another housemate… and now you don’t remember him? Like me?” she asked, now feeling real fear grip her heart. How long had this been going on? 

Rose watched as John closed his eyes, scrunching his face in concentration, possibly trying to make himself remember. Concentrating, she tried to do the same. If she was the one who mentioned this… Charlie… she obviously had known him, or had at least known _about_ him, at one point. Pushing her mind back, she tried to relive the conversation John was talking about. 

A sharp intake of breath made her look up. John’s eyes were squeezed shut and his fingers were once again massaging his temples. 

“John… it’s getting worse, isn’t it?” she asked, standing up to examine him more closely. 

He hissed a slow breath out and his face relaxed as he opened his eyes again. Awareness seemed to dawn on him. “It’s when I try to remember something, Rose. It actually hurts. There’s… it’s like there’s something in the way… something blocking my memories,” he said, thinking aloud. 

“So… do you remember him now? This… Charlie?” she asked, hoping.

Looking into the distance, he shook his head. “No. Not really. I remember you talking about him. I have a sort of… vague image of a bloke in my mind, but… it could be anyone,” he said, clearly making an effort to push his recall of the man to the forefront of his mind. 

Suddenly a horrid realization occurred to her. “Wait… if we’re just forgettin’ people… where are they? I mean, where did they go?” she asked, dread creeping through her.

John’s mouth opened and then closed again. Finally he said in a low voice, “I don’t know.”


	11. The Flatmate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a pile of editing, and I admit to cursing out loud a few times while doing so. Still, I loved writing another one of my favourite DW characters into this story... hope you'll enjoy seeing him here!!! Allons-y!

### The Restoration : Chapter 11 - The Flatmate

John and Rose spent the rest of the morning together, coming up with one theory after another as to where the missing people in their lives had gone. Rose had even suggested that maybe things really were just as they seemed. Maybe this flatmate she’d apparently had had never truly existed. Maybe John really _was_ ill. After all, it seemed completely insane that she could have lived with a woman for months and have absolutely no memory of ever having done so.

John wisely pointed out, though, that if she never had a flatmate or ever wanted one, why did she rent a two bedroom flat? On top of that, the second bedroom was furnished with a double bed, a dated dresser, a worn desk, a bookshelf, and generic posters of flowers and waterfalls. The furnishing was clearly meant for another student. If it wasn’t, why would she have bothered fitting the room in such a way? Her mum had passed away… she had no one she could think of she’d expect to visit. If anything, why wouldn’t she have made that room into a study? Or spread out her own stuff so she wasn’t so squished in her small room? After all, her own room was seriously crowded with a bed, a clunky desk, an oversized dresser and a night table. Rose had to admit that it made no sense. On top of that, she had no memory at all of ever having considered a real purpose for the extra room. 

No… it couldn’t be denied. People were missing. For some reason, people they knew were being taken. And even after hours coming up with various theories, they were no closer to actually figuring out where they’d gone. And if people were going missing… why only some people? Why not her? Or… God forbid… John? It didn’t make any sense.

After more speculating and a mid-morning meal, Rose found herself itching to leave the flat… to _do_ something. It was terrifying thinking that they could be assaulted at any time and have no memory whatsoever of it, but they weren’t going to help anyone just sitting here in her small apartment. John seemed to agree but was obviously very reticent to entertain the idea of leaving the flat if it meant that any more harm might come to her. She, of course, felt the same about him, but they had to do _something_.

Finally, after some negotiation, John agreed they could maybe go out and talk to people… find out if others had experienced anything odd… if they’d noticed unusual things happening… as long as she didn’t stray far from his side. 

Agreeing readily, they dressed and left the flat hand in hand. Rose wondered if whoever was doing this ever attacked people during the daylight. It made more sense that they would strike at night, when it was less likely they’d be seen, but she couldn’t be certain.

Deciding to start with people they knew well, they headed to Chloe’s place in the hopes that she might remember this mysterious flatmate of Rose’s. Knocking on the door, they waited only a few moments before they heard movement and the door opened. An extremely attractive, familiar bloke stood in the doorway smiling widely. “Rosie!” he announced, scooping her into a hug. “What’re you doin’ here?” he asked happily, his blue eyes twinkling with his usual energy. 

“Hey Jack,” Rose greeted, giving him a quick hug back before gently extracting herself from his grip. It occurred to her then that she should probably have prepared John for Chloe’s flatmate. He was a notorious flirt, but generally harmless. “We came by to chat with Chloe, but maybe we can bother you too,” she explained as he reluctantly released her.

She wasn’t sure, but she thought she actually heard a low growl coming from the man behind her. She was about to turn and introduce John when he stepped purposefully forward to wrap his arm around her shoulder. It was an unmistakable and clear message. Mine. 

“Oh, uh… John… this is Jack. Jack - John,” she said, awkwardly introducing the two.

“Ohhhh… so _you’re_ the guy who’s been keeping Rosie so busy,” Jack observed slyly. 

“Yup. _Very_ busy,” John assured him, staring Jack down with clear intent.

Just then, a petite freckled redhead pushed her way past Jack. “Rose! Hey! What’re you doin’ here?” she asked, wrapping her in an exuberant hug. 

“Uh, John and I just popped by to chat for a minute. Are you guys busy?” she asked.

“Nah - I’m just cleanin’ my room. It’s lookin’ worse than Jack’s, and I didn’t even think that was possible,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Hey! I resent that. I don’t _deny_ it, but I resent it,” Jack quipped in response.

Ignoring her flatmate, Chloe gestured for her and John to enter. “You must be John. Rose has been talkin’ about you non-stop,” she informed him as she led them into the living room.

Rose blushed. Caught. In contrast to her embarrassment, though, John seemed to relax a bit beside her for the first time since Jack hugged her. “Oh yes? You’ve been talking about me?” he asked, flashing her an amused look.

“Oh, shut it,” she elbowed him playfully, feeling her cheeks slowly cool as they settled on the couch. Looking about, Rose took in the flat. She knew she’d been in Chloe’s place before, but she didn’t recall ever really _looking_ at it. On inspection it seemed just as generic as all the other flats she’d been in since she got here. It reminded her of a point John had made earlier about her own place. There were no little personal touches in the decor. No personal photos… no artwork that appeared to differentiate her friend’s flat from another. 

“Can I get you somethin’?” Chloe asked them. “Water? A beer?”

“Nah, I’m good, thanks,” Rose declined politely. 

“I’ll have a beer, Chlo,” Jack hollered at her back as she disappeared into the kitchen. “And grab one for Rosie’s new friend here,” he added, nodding toward John. Conspiratorily Jack leaned forward and added, “Probably best we don’t let our Rosie drink this early in the day anyway. Not much for holding her liquor, am I right?” he said to John. Remember New Years, Rose?” he continued knowingly, waggling his eyebrows at her.

“Jack…” she said in light warning, darting a look sideways at John. Her male companion didn’t say anything, but his body noticeably tensed, and she knew she wasn’t imagining him making a show of putting his hand on her knee. A tiny part of her couldn’t help but feel oddly pleased by John’s show of possessiveness, but a larger part of her was surprised by the intensity of it. It seemed to be taking all his effort to be civil. On the other hand, Jack was definitely pushing buttons, there was no question. Rose sighed inwardly, once again wishing she’d warned John about Jack’s penchant for flirting. 

“So… how long have you known Rose?” John said conversationally from beside her, his hand still resting on her leg. His tone was light, but his eyes were hard and focused intently on Jack.

“Oh, we go _way_ back,” Jack said, his lips pulling up in a bit of a smirk. “Right, Rosie?” he said airily, winking at her suggestively. John’s grip on her knee tightened slightly.

Oh, for… “Jack. I only met you last term. Don’t be a pest,” she warned, quite aware that Jack would be quite happy to cause a scene if John wanted to make it one.

“Oh, come on, Rosie… admit it. It’s _felt_ like we’ve known each other forever, though,” he clarified.

There was no doubt this time. John’s chest actually rumbled with a low growl. If it was possible for looks to kill, she was pretty sure those brown orbs would be shooting lasers by now.

Deciding to head off any more tension, she turned to John and added, “I met Jack at Billow’s Pub. He was hittin’ on one of his maths profs. What was his name?” Rose asked Jack pointedly.

Jack gave her a full on smile this time. “Donaldson. David Donaldson. Man, that guy could snog,” he said, tilting his head back in remembrance. “Got an ‘A’ in that class,” he recalled fondly.

“Mmmm. I’m sure you did,” Rose said knowingly. 

Beside her she felt John’s body relax slightly. Her point was made. Of course… he didn’t have to know that Jack would have been just as happy if the maths prof had been called _Donna_ Donaldson, but that was a conversation for a less charged moment.

Just then, Chloe returned with the three beers. “So… what’s up?” she asked, passing one of the frosty bottles to her flatmate and one to John.

Oh yes… the reason they came here in the first place. “Well… “ Rose started before trailing off. Suddenly she was quite unsure how to go about starting this conversation. 

John must’ve sensed her falter, because he cleared his throat and chimed in, “Um... we were just wondering if you’ve heard from Nat lately? She didn’t come home last night… we were just wondering if she maybe stopped by here?” 

“Who?” Chloe asked, her nose wrinkled in confusion. Jack merely looked at Chloe.

Their reaction confirmed Rose’s suspicion. She wasn’t the only one who’d forgotten her apparent flatmate. Deciding to try another angle, Rose said, “Listen… I know this is gonna sound daft, but… have you two noticed anything odd lately? Like… like people goin’ missin’? Maybe people forgettin’ things?”

Chloe looked taken aback. “People goin’ missin’? Rose… what’re you talkin’ about? Of course not,” she said, looking incredulous. “I think I’d be a bit more worried if people I knew were goin’ missin’.”

“Yeah. Of course,” Rose said, aware how ludicrous her question must’ve sounded. “But… maybe you’ve noticed somethin’ else? People forgettin’ stuff they shouldn’t?”

“Rose… what’s going on? Has someone gone missing?” Jack asked, clearly alerted.

Rose studied him before answering, “Maybe. I’m… we don’t have any proof,” she said, looking back at John, “but… something odd is going on,” she said honestly. 

Chloe studied her and John for a moment, before sighing. “Okay. Well… let’s see,” she started, rolling her eyes up in contemplation. Awareness then dawned on her features. “There was a couple weeks ago… there were, like, three or four of my mates who were acting really oddly… like they’d never seen me in their lives. Even you!” she said, pointing at Rose. 

“What? I never,” Rose assured her. 

“Oh yes… you were all weird that day. Remember? The day of the quiz?” she reminded her.

“Oh my god. You’re right,” Rose said, her eyes wide. “She’s right!” she repeated, aiming the comment at John. “I forgot about the readings and I…” she paused, a related memory coming back to her. “That night… there was a chunk of time I couldn’t remember!” she gasped. “Oh my god!”

“I was worried about you with that quiz. You were a mess that day,” Chloe interrupted. “You were so stressed about forgetting the readings an’ all. But the next day you seemed fine,” she reminded her.

“John… it must’ve happened that night! There’s a whole evening I can’t remember at all. Whoever did this… they’ve done it to me before,” she said, anxiety pushing through her. 

John wrapped his arm tightly around her, as if doing so might protect her retroactively. 

“Done what to you before? What happened to her?” Jack asked John, worry permeating his voice.

“We aren’t completely sure, but we’re gonna find out. Just… I’d suggest you stay inside today, yeah? Keep your doors and windows closed” he said with surprising authority. 

“What about you two? What are you gonna do?” Chloe asked.

“We’re gonna find out what this is and stop it,” John said, his body tense. 

For some reason, Rose found she innately believed him. She wasn’t sure why. They were apparently being stalked by someone who was able to take their memories and they had no idea how to go about finding out who was responsible or how they were doing it. Still… she believed him. She just hoped that stopping it didn’t result in more memories being lost… or worse.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

They left Chloe’s flat not long after they’d realized the full extent of the violation occurring around them. Clearly Rose’s friend had had some odd experiences and it was obvious Rose had been a target of… _whatever_ this was… more than once. But exactly how widespread this was, they still didn’t know. 

They had to get a better idea of the scope of the problem and to do that they needed to talk to more people to get a feel for how many others were experiencing similar things. In order to do that, though, John realized they needed a cover story so as not to alarm everyone they talked to. It would hardly do to either completely terrify every person they came into contact with or have everyone think they were both stark raving mad. With that in mind, he suggested they head to his place to come up with a plausible story. 

Their walk to his house was mostly quiet, which he hoped Rose thought was because he was focused on coming up with a plan. In reality it was due completely to his own internal self evaluation and subsequent self admonishment over his behaviour at Chloe’s place. His possessiveness back there… what the hell had he been playing at? The way he’d acted with Jack had been practically prehistoric. He might as well have torn open his shirt, clubbed his chest with his fists, and pulled Rose out of the flat by her hair. 

Just… he felt like he couldn’t help himself. Jack… the friggin’ bloody good-looking arse who apparently felt like he’d known Rose ‘forever’... rubbed him _completely_ the wrong way. It was almost visceral - the feeling of unease the man brought out in him. Still… that didn’t excuse his ridiculously possessive behaviour. It was like something deep in his gut demanded he step up the moment Jack’s body language suggested he might have _any_ interest in what was _his_. 

Whoa. What the hell kind of thought was _that_? She was hardly _his_. She was… Rose. She was her own person and not anyone’s property. 

Something inside him instantly reared up at that thought. Of _course_ she was HIS. Not property, no. But still HIS.

Shaking his head, he tried to dislodge the thought. It was wrong. _Wrong_. And surely, if Rose could read his thoughts right now, she’d be livid. Really, he was surprised Rose hadn’t already laid into him the minute they’d left given his behaviour. Maybe she was just distracted by their quest for answers, but it seemed much more likely she was waiting until they got back to the relative privacy of his place to tear him a new one. 

That thought sent a shiver of dread through him.

By the time they arrived, the continued silence and his escalating dread had paired to become serious anxiety. He had a sudden desire to turn tail and take off running. Instead, though, he let them into the house and took a deep breath, waiting for the inevitable tongue lashing. 

As if sensing this, Rose moved in past him, took off her shoes and then stood before him. John swallowed nervously. Moving closer, Rose placed her hands lightly on his chest and leaned in to kiss his cheek. What?

Half expecting the kiss to be followed by a slap, he stood still looking down at her for a few moments. 

Sighing, Rose turned and padded off toward the kitchen. What?

Following her, he found her pulling out two wine glasses from the cupboard. “Got any wine left from last night?” she asked, pulling open the fridge door to peer inside. 

“Uh… yeah. Should be some left,” he answered, bewildered.

“Good,” she sighed, pulling out the near full bottle of white wine left over from their date the night before. Pouring the liquid into the two goblets she’d extracted, she put the bottle on the table and picked up both glasses. Handing him one, she announced, “Here. We need to talk.”

The anxiety John had been nurturing blossomed into full blown fear. She was going to dump him, wasn’t she? He’d been a possessive twat and she’d finally realized what she’d gotten herself into.

Taking his hand, she pulled him into the living room. Encouraging him to sit on the couch, she sat on the chair right beside it. “So… what should we do?” she said, taking a big swig of wine.

John blinked. Do?

He must’ve looked lost, because she clarified, “... about asking people? We have to come up with a cover story, yeah? So… what were you thinking?”

“Oh!” he nearly barked, surprised and desperately relieved she wasn’t planning to tear his head off for being such an arse. “I… uh… well, I was thinking we could make it seem like we’re doing research on the effect of course load on memory retention,” he suggested, reciting the idea he’d thought of earlier. Pausing for a moment, it occurred to him that maybe she was just trying to put off yelling at him for some reason. Maybe she was merely trying to make the best of it until the larger problem was solved. Not wanting to continue that train of thought, he added, “We could come up with some questions that wouldn’t raise too many eyebrows, and even if they did… it would be in the name of science,” he proposed.

Rose nodded. “Good idea,” she agreed. “Let’s grab a notebook and a pen and come up with some, yeah?” she smiled.

“Yeah. Good plan,” he agreed, incongruently staying seated to study her for a moment. He needed to say something. The waiting… worrying was gonna kill him. “How come you’re so being good to me?” he asked softly. “I mean… I was such a… when Chloe’s flatmate…” he started.

“John, it’s okay. I get it,” she stated, interrupting him. 

“You do?” he asked, bewildered. He wasn’t sure _he_ even got it.

“Yeah. I mean… like you said. We haven’t known each other long, but it feels like we’ve been together for ages. And we both agree we’re serious, yeah?” she added.

John nodded dumbly. There was no denying that.

“Then… I understand. It’s threatening to meet someone who’s known the one you… someone you care so much about… for longer than you have. Doesn’t mean they’re an actual threat, but still… I get it. And it doesn’t help that Jack was being a prat. I should be apologizin’ for _his_ behaviour. He was testin’ you. I’ve seen him do it with Chloe’s blokes before... testin’ their commitment.”

“Well, apparently I passed,” he said ruefully.

Rose smiled. “Hey… I’m not usually the possessive type, but for some reason, this time ‘round - I think I will be,” she shared. “Just… next time… let’s talk before you start growling, yeah?” she grinned cheekily.

Despite being called on his unarguably primitive behaviour, he found himself grinning back. “Yes ma’am,” he agreed.

Rose smiled and leaned in to kiss him lightly. “Now. What are we gonna tell people?” she said, blessedly moving the conversation along. Gods he lo-… she was wonderful.


	12. The Union

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, my dears… the rating applies for this chapter, so consider yourself warned. 
> 
> I have to admit… I’m pretty tickled about where this chapter leads (*grins a bit too widely*)...

### The Restoration : Chapter 12 - The Union

After deliberating for a bit on the kinds of questions they should ask, John and Rose went out and checked in with a few more mates, both his and hers, and found that each had similar tales. This or that person was acting oddly one day or they reported they’d been much more forgetful lately. A few mentioned that they could’ve sworn their professor had been different the day before last and two other people shared similar stories of missing time like Rose had experienced.  
In the end, it all boiled down to being more evidence that they were not the only victims of whomever, or whatever, was at work here.  
John had suspected as much, but he wasn’t quite prepared for the scope of it.

It seemed everyone they talked to had one or more stories to tell, but even after all the interviews they’d conducted, they really weren’t any closer to actually finding out where the missing people had gone, and that very fact was frustrating him to no end. Were they being held somewhere? Had they been killed? He’d considered both of these outcomes but hadn’t voiced them. Surely Rose had come to realize these were the only two likely scenarios. It occurred to him, though, as he voiced his frustration over the day’s findings, that in all their investigation they’d been ignoring one very important clue. The Book. It seemed to want them to discover things. Why would the missing people’s whereabouts be any different? Rose seemed to think his theory was a good one, so they headed back to her flat for another look. 

By the time they were trekking back, the stars were twinkling above and the moon shone bright on the pavement. Daring a look down at Rose striding determinedly beside him as they neared her flat, he felt his hearts… er… _heart_.... swell. She was a picture of goodness, this one. Despite having been somehow interfered with… having memories stolen from her… she was pushing ahead without reserve. Squeezing her hand a bit tighter, he stopped them just before she was about to let his go to reach for her keys.

Looking up at him with questioning eyes, he took a moment to let himself fall into them. It was like they held some mysterious link to his soul. It was such a powerful, irrefutable force that it nearly stole his breath away. 

“You okay?” she asked, worry starting to create a small crease between her brows. 

“Oh yes,” he assured her, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear tenderly. With that, she smiled and all his worry about the book and the missing memories fell away. Her smile could distract him no matter what the circumstances, he was sure. 

“Good,” she said, standing on her toes to kiss him lightly. He wasn’t about to let it go at that, though. Threading his hands around her back, he insisted on something more lingering. They stood that way for a while, lips sliding and tongues sweeping, before he finally loosened his hold on her… and the only reason he’d done so, quite frankly, was that it would be bad form to shag her right here on the cement in front of her building. 

It had been a couple of days since they’d made love at his place and, in truth, he’d been finding it difficult to hold himself back from accosting her whenever they happened to be alone anywhere, and now was no exception. He wasn’t positive, but he was pretty sure she felt similarly. The only thing holding him back, and her as well, he hoped, was what had happened last time. Not the mind thing… _THAT_ was brilliant. He’d have shagged her again multiple times that very same night if only to feel her glorious mind joined with his again. No… he was holding back because of what had happened afterward. 

Like he’d told her… if they had sex again, they’d have to be careful not to overdo it and have her pass out again. And really, given that risk he wouldn’t blame her if she wanted to avoid sex altogether until they figured out what was going on. 

His mind went back to his misspoken suggestion that they shag again to see if they could repeat the experience of sharing minds. He cringed inwardly. His enthusiasm for exploration had gotten the better of his good judgement. Of course she’d be a pissed at such a suggestion. She’d just passed out, after all… and all he seemed to be thinking of was repeating the event for the sake of science. Now though… while he couldn’t deny he was a bit excited to see if they’d read each others thoughts again, his real drive was just to be with Rose once more. His body seemed to be craving hers. Even holding her hand now sent shivers of arousal through him. 

Her face adorably flushed and her lips slightly reddened from their heated kiss, Rose finally pulled out her keys and opened the glass door to her building. Letting his gaze slide down to wrap around her backside, he felt his already aroused member harden a bit further. It was like he’d tasted the tiniest dollop of an exquisite new jam and then been forced to put the lid on it only to see it taunting him from inside it’s transparent home. And it seemed he may not be able to sample the sweet goodness again for a while. Why was life so cruel sometimes? Taking a breath, he tried to steady his rampaging hormones. 

They made their way up to her empty flat and, once there, Rose suggested they should eat something before diving into the story of Jasmine again. John watched her as she moved around the kitchen, her perfect body mesmerizing him with even its smallest movements as she pulled out a frozen pizza and threw it in the oven before pulling out two beers from the fridge. Opening them, she handed one to him and clinked hers against it. “To figuring this out,” she suggested.

“To figuring this out,” he agreed, watching her take a long swallow from her bottle. More inappropriate thoughts rolled through his mind, which was no surprise. It seemed pretty much anything she did at the moment was easily converted into a sexual act in his very vivid imagination. 

A series of them scrolled before his awareness before he realized Rose was smiling at him. “Oi… Earth to John,” she grinned, her tongue touching her teeth. 

“Oh. Uh… yeah,” he responded with a sheepish grin. “Sorry. I was miles away,” he lied, feeling his cheeks heat up a bit before pointedly taking a sip from the cold bottle. The bitter taste rolled down his throat in a surprisingly refreshing way. It had been a very long day and neither of them had had anything to eat or drink since this morning, he then realized. He watched as Rose took another swig from her own bottle before placing it on the counter. “I guess we can look at the book while we eat, yeah? The suspense is kind of killing me,” she admitted. 

He smiled. She was dedicated, his Rose Tyler. “Right. Let’s see if our friend J.H. has anything new to tell us,” he agreed, making himself focus on the reason they were here in the first place.

Nodding, Rose trotted off down the hall to retrieve the book from her room. John took another deep pull on his beer and savoured the cold bubbly goodness of it. A ridiculously large part of him just wanted to forget this entire horrible ordeal and find solace in alcohol and in Rose’s warm embrace. In moments, though, Rose returned with the novel in hand.

Plunking it on the kitchen table, she moved to tend to the pizza and pull out a couple of plates. Laying out their meal, Rose took a couple of cheesy slices, as did he, and they settled with them in front of the book. “Ready for this?” she asked, obviously a bit nervous about seeing what this supernatural object had to offer them. 

“As I’ll ever be,” he agreed without enthusiasm, shuffling his chair over to sit directly beside her. Flipping open the cover, she leafed through the pages until she got to where they’d left off this morning. 

Sure as hell… there they were. Fresh, readable words filling the next page. He felt Rose tense up beside him and he reached to put a comforting hand on her leg. She let out a shaky breath with his touch and gave him a thankful look before looking back at the elegant writing. After a moment she began reading aloud.

The first passage more or less chronicled their day of interviews and the significance of their discovery that they weren’t alone in their experiences of missing time and memories. It was the next bit, though, that grabbed John’s attention.

 

_People were missing. There was no question any longer that the problem was so much larger than either of us had anticipated. Despite that, though, Jonathan rightly pointed out that there were powers at work that could help us. They would continue to help us read the situation and would ensure that our past would help us survive so that we had a shared future. Those powers, though, would not be able to continue helping us unless we did more to help ourselves. We had to abandon our fears and follow through with what we started. Our need for each other could no longer be denied if we were to access all the resources we would need to defeat the darkness that was threatening to swallow our very lives._

 

The words hung in the air as they fell from Rose’s mouth. With the passage completed, she sat silently for a moment before looking at him. “What does it mean… our… need?” she asked, worry evident in her voice. 

John shifted uncomfortably in his seat. If it meant what he thought it did… it was actually echoing his own thoughts before they’d entered the building. It seems his need for her… his nearly overwhelming desire for her… was founded in something foretold. Something they apparently both felt. 

Unwilling to put it into words in exactly that way, he took a calming breath and shifted his chair even closer to hers. “Rose… I think… if it’s saying what I think it’s saying… it’s telling us we shouldn’t be denying our, er… attraction to each other,” he tried. 

Rose looked at him like she’d been discovered hiding in a particularly good hide-and-seek spot. She swallowed thickly. “It is?”

“I think so. Yeah,” he confirmed. 

“Oh,” she replied. His theory earlier of her being afraid of continuing their physical relationship were being proven right before his eyes. She was scared. She was frightened of being overwhelmed as she had been with him before. 

“Rose… we don’t have to. If you’re… if you’re scared, I completely understand. Something happened to you last time… if you want to wait until… well… even if you decide you _never_ want to… to…” he stammered before being interrupted.

“No John. I do… I mean… I _want_ to. With you. I really do. But… last time, when I passed out… I’m just nervous. What if it happens again? What if I don’t wake up next time?” she admitted. 

Bringing the pad of his thumb up to brush against the apple of her cheek he assured her in no uncertain terms, “Rose… it doesn’t matter what the book says. If you’re not comfortable… if you don’t want to… we won’t. We don’t know what it’s even talking about anyway. We’re going to figure out what’s going on whether we make love again or not, yeah?” he promised.

Nodding, she brought her hand up to cover his as he stroked her cheek. “Yeah. Thanks, John. But I really _do_ want to,” she admitted, her eyes searching his. “And I can tell you do to,” she shared. 

He wasn’t about to deny it. He couldn’t if he wanted to.

“And if the book says it’ll help us… if it somehow… strengthens our commitment to figuring this out or even if it just makes us feel closer… I want it,” she said earnestly.

“Oh, Rose,” he nearly whispered, leaning in to kiss her softly. 

She responded with equal pressure, and soon his hands were tugging her insistently toward him. Her body seemed to melt into his as they snogged, their lips meeting in heated clashes. After a few more moments of this, John pulled back. “I want to make love to you, Rose Tyler, and there’s nothing detached or scientific about it,” he confessed. “Is that alright?”

Rose smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling. “I’ve never heard anything more romantic,” she grinned. “Come ‘ere,” she commanded, pulling his lips down to meet hers once again.

Their kiss evolved into movement as John slowly backed Rose up down the hall toward the bedroom. A few steps in he began divesting her of her top and within another few feet she’d made short work of his jumper. Trousers were next, which nearly caused a tumble as they continued their slow groping trek down the hall. When they finally made it to Rose’s room, they were both down to their pants and Rose’s bra was in the process of being removed. Blasted contraptions, these bloody clips!

Rose reached around and undid the hooks, thus exponentially decreasing his fervored frustration. Continuing to back her up until the back of her knees met the edge of the bed, they tumbled together onto the mattress, barely pausing in their exploration of each other to allow for repositioning. 

His mouth found her breast and he took great delight in lightly biting her puckered nipple only to suck it solidly, causing her to gasp his name in a way he was desperate to hear again. His hand found its taut twin and rolled it in between thumb and forefinger in an effort to call forth his name from her lips once again. To his delight, a litany of hissed breaths and whispered repetitions of his earthly title escaped the woman beneath him. 

Behind his eyes, the now familiar golden lights began twinkling. They were almost as mesmerizing as she was, but not quite. 

Shifting his oral attention to her right breast, one hand trailed down to lightly circle over the sensitive apex of her sex. Her bundled collection of nerve endings stood firm beneath its hooded sanctuary, and his light but consistent strokes made Rose keen beneath him. “That’s it, love,” he coached. “Let me bring you over,” he insisted. His words seemed to push her beyond the point of pleasure and into bliss. She writhed beneath him, her hips bucking and a strangled cry issuing from her lips. “Gods, Rose… that’s it. Come for me,” he commanded as she continued her ascension into ecstasy. A sharp intake of breath and a silent open mouthed cry heralded the crest of her climax and he nursed it until she shuddered and gasped her completion. 

A glorious manly satisfaction filled him. He did that for her. He gave her that pleasure and watching her as she experienced it had been one of the most arousing things he’d ever witnessed. Only one thought now filled his mind. He needed her. Needed to be inside her body. Her _mind_.

“Want you,” she rasped, still slightly breathless from her orgasm. Pushing him gently, she rolled him over to straddle his thighs, her heat so very close to where he needed it to be. Sliding up his body she took him in hand making him gasp. Positioning him, she sank down on his shaft, encasing him. Her body moulded tightly around him and the wet heat of her was almost enough to finish him right then. His eyes slammed shut and he hissed a breath in, working to reign in his already spiraling arousal. Behind his lids, the golden lights began to pulse. The now familiar lightheadedness asserted itself as well and quickly escalated to weightlessness. Without meaning to, he felt his mind reach out. Fear gripped him. No. He shouldn’t. Unsure how to stop, he struggled to pull his consciousness back from hers.

From outside himself he heard, “No! Please! John… please!” Her voice was insistent and pleading. She needed it too… but… “John… I need you… please…” 

He wasn’t sure, but he thought he felt her mind reach out purposefully for his. Feather light tendrils of familiar, blessed warmth called to him. That was it. Unable to reign in his nearly desperate desire to have his mind united with hers again, he let go and his mind to surged into hers.

Light exploded behind his eyes and suddenly they were one. His mind and hers… their very souls… bonded together. They were caressing each other’s very beings while their bodies twined together on the physical plane. The ecstasy was once again beyond what he thought the human body was capable of experiencing. Another sensation, though, began to make its presence known. A pressure… a deep swirling presence that he’d not experienced before. They were not alone. 

Suddenly this new presence surged forward to press against the very boundaries of his mind. It emanated power so raw that it took his breath away. Alarm shot through him and his mind instinctively tried to pull away but the force of the energy wouldn’t let him. It gripped him and held his consciousness firm.

A massive wave of heat rolled through his mind then, making him cry out. It started in the back of his head and rolled outward like a pulse of fire, lighting and burning the synapses it passed with unrefined energy. From somewhere outside his mind he heard his own voice scream in agony. That, though, seemed almost like a whisper compared to the second voice that added itself to the cacophony of pain and his own cries. It was booming and powerful and quickly overwhelmed his comparatively weak biology. It was a woman’s voice. Rose’s voice. It was the hallucinatory auditory manifestation of the woman he loved, but instead of lulling him with her mezzo timbre, her voice formed dual toned words that lit his mind on fire.

“My Doctor.”


	13. The History

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooo - I LOVED writing this chapter. My muse is wringing her little hands in glee. She finally decided to throw a bone to my dear insightful and inspiring readers! There is still much left to uncover, but this chapter should answer some questions. Or one big one, at least! Enjoy!

### The Restoration : Chapter 13 - The History

Warm light and the waft of a small breeze invited him back to consciousness. Cracking his eyes open, he immediately slammed them shut again. Bloody hell. Bringing his hand up to press against his eyes, he moaned. A resounding ache pounded through his skull. It was like that morning after he’d drank a full bottle of Denosian Vodka before realizing even a Time Lord body couldn’t metabolize it. He didn’t remember drinking last night, though. Last night. What the hell happened las-

Despite the promise of renewed pain, his eyes flew open. His vision was filled with a curtain of blonde hair. Jesus, Omega and Crippa. Last night.

Terrified to do so, but knowing he must, he slowly lifted his head to study the sleeping form beside him. Ohhhhh. Ohhhhhhhhhhh.

Lying spooned in his arms, her blonde hair strewn around her head to frame it on her pillow, was Rose. His Rose. _HIS_ Rose. 

Oh Gods. What had he done? What had he been _thinking_?! Well obviously he hadn’t been thinking. Properly, that is. He had been John Smith… a university student who happened to be head over heels for this incredible woman beside him. What university student wouldn’t be? What _male_ wouldn’t be? But now he was a Time Lord. Always had been, but now he actually remembered it. 

Then it occurred to him to wonder how? Why did he now remember who he was? Would Rose remember too? Thinking back, he replayed the events of last night. Memories of he and Rose… together… ohhhh my… they were definitely together all right. Images of their love making… being surrounded by pure Rose… sent very inappropriate signals to his nether regions making him twitch. Concentrating, he sent his body a firm signal to cease and desist.

It didn’t respond. To his signal, that is. It _definitely_ responded to Rose who just then decided to snuggle her backside more firmly against his front. 

The press of her body against his increasing firmness made him buck forward ever so slightly in an effort to increase the pressure. A happy little hum escaped his little pink and yellow human then, making him instantly ashamed. What the hell was he doing?

Against his body’s urging, he gently extricated himself from around the woman beside him and put a bit of distance between them. He let out a little shaky sigh. Well this was just fantastic. He’d gone and done it. The one thing he’d promised himself he’d never do. Have sex with Rose Tyler.

Not that he hadn’t ever considered such an occurrence between them. He had. Plenty of times. He’d spent more than a few weeks considering the entire prospect of proposing they take their friendship and build it into something more intimate. More committed. It was when she returned to him after he’d tried to send her away… after they successfully opened the crack between universes at Canary Wharf and sent the Cybermen into the void. That was when he actually really entertained the idea of letting his guard down long enough to find out if she had any similar feelings for him. Of letting her in. Properly. Intimately. 

There were so very many reasons, though, not to, and he had wisely considered each before making his decision whether or not to take the next step. Sure, she’d stayed with him and survived the harrowing event, but one day she’d be gone and he’d be left with only his broken heart for company for the rest of his ridiculously long life. And while he knew his sins were many, living without her after giving himself over to her completely was a punishment he didn’t think he could bare. Then of course, there was the very real possibility that even if he _did_ give her his body and his heart, she might very well tire of him and their crazy lifestyle. She might want a proper house with a dog and a fence and a husband who could give her the life she deserved. She might want a man whose closet was empty of Gallifreyan skeletons and ghosts. 

No… despite his feelings for Rose, logic defied the possibility of them ever being more than friends. He had made his decision, as difficult as it was. He would forever be her friend. They could never share a bed. And yes… she would have his hearts… but she could never know it. 

Except now all his carefully laid plans had to been smashed to bits. They had _definitely_ shared a bed. More than one, in fact. 

Closing his eyes, he tried to think back again to last night. There had to be a reason he now remembered his past. His sudden recall was clearly related somehow to their lovemaking. Their incredible, fantastic, brilliant love making. He couldn’t recall ever having had an orgasm like he’d had last night. It was… it was... 

Suddenly it came to him. The lights. The dizziness. The… oh Gods. Her _mind_. Of _course_! Their minds… together. Dear Rassilon. He felt his jaw drop and his hearts began to race. They’d bonded. In his ignorant state he’d gone and initiated a bond with her the first time they made love at his place. That’s why she passed out! She was only bloody human, for Gods’ sake. A bolt of anxiety shot through him. What they hell had he done?! He could’ve killed her! 

The realization of what could’ve happened hit him full force. Trying to bond with a human was dangerous at best and lethal at worst. Even if a Time Lord managed to initiate a bond with a human, most of them didn’t have even a fraction of the telepathic ability needed to be able to reciprocate contact and seal the union. Because of that, a complete and two way bond could never be formed. The human and Time Lord would be left with a partially formed bond that would leave the Time Lord suffering and would probably end up killing the human. Without the bonded partner’s mind to support it, the bond would quickly drain the human of needed mental resources leading to dementia and death. His people had banned the practice of bonding with humans for that very reason. 

Yet here they were. Not only had Rose survived his fumbling and artless initiating of a bond the first time they’d made love, she’d somehow managed to muster enough telepathic energy to complete it the second time ‘round. It was… incredible. _She_ was incredible. 

He suddenly felt compelled to pull her close. To shield her from anymore threat. It was almost a tangible need.

Forcing himself to hold back, though, he tried to dampen the feeling. He’d never been bonded before… not many Time Lords had. Bonding was a common practice before the days of Rassilon, but after children began being loomed, physical joining to create offspring fell out of favour and bonding along with it. He’d read, though, that bonded couples tended to feel extremely protective of each other… especially immediately after the bond was forged. Not only that… from what he’d heard whispered in the halls of the academy, the bonded couple apparently found it extremely difficult to, er… abstain. Even if they wanted to. Roughly translated, he recalled one of his mates describing the first couple years as a ‘shagfest extravaganza’. Granted… they’d only been pre-pubescent boys sharing gossip between classes, but what if it was true? What if he couldn’t keep his hands off her? Lord knows he was already finding it difficult and he’d only just woken up!

Yeah, well… he’d bloody well better reign that in if he was going to keep his distance from her. She hadn’t signed on for any of this, and really, she was plain old lucky to even be breathing at the moment. 

Rassilon - how was he going to explain this? If she woke and had all her memories, he’d somehow have to break it to her. She was bonded to him. Tied to him for life. It was a commitment he’d never have asked from her even if he _had_ decided to pursue a relationship with her. Now, though, she had little choice in the matter. They were joined in the most sacred of ways, and as far as he knew, there was no way to _un_ bond from someone. 

Well, he’d just have to find a way, then. He’d made his decision before any of this happened. Rose Tyler deserved so much more than this. More than _him_. 

When she woke, he’d just have to come clean and hope she didn’t hate him. Or should he? Tell her, that is. What if he didn’t? Maybe he could just keep his distance until he sorted a way to fix this. 

His own conscience reared it’s head then. No. He couldn’t do that. She’d know something was up… she’d recognize something was different. The fact that she suddenly had a strong urge to shag him might be a giveaway, assuming she’d never considered the idea before.

He stopped at that thought. _Had_ she ever considered it, he wondered? He already admitted he’d thought of it, but had she? Naw. Probably not. Sure… she seemed to enjoy his company. Cassandra had even once said Rose thought he was a ‘little bit foxy’. But more than that? He doubted it. Well… whatever her actual wishes had been… even if she _had_ ever wanted to be more than friends with him… she certainly wouldn’t have wanted _this_. 

Still… as much as the idea of hiding this from her seemed preferable to dealing with the fallout, she had the right to know the full extent of what they’d shared. He would have to tell her and deal with the consequences, even if it meant she’d want to leave him once he’d ‘unbonded’ them. This had been his fault, after all. It wasn’t like _she_ could’ve initiated a bond. No… that blame fell squarely on his shoulders.

What if she still didn’t remember him, though? Remember their past? What was he going to do? He certainly wasn’t going to fill her in on his newly re-discovered identity. At the moment, she might not even remember who _she_ actually was, let alone the fact that he was an alien. And even if he wanted to… how could he tell her? 

_Yeah… I’m not John Smith. I’m a 900 year old Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey. You’ve been travelling with me across time and space for the last few years. Oh, and by the way, I’ve bonded you to me for eternity because we mind shagged. I hope you don’t mind._

No… if she was still missing memories, he clearly wasn’t going to be able to share any of this news with her yet. They’d have to deal with solving the problem of the missing people and missing memories before he’d be able to come clean.

Beside him, Rose began to stir. Squeezing her eyes tightly for a moment, she groaned. A well of concern for her bloomed in him. They’d bonded last night. Completely and fully. And while he knew she was clearly alive, he hadn’t thought to consider that she still could’ve been hurt during the process. Panic rose in him. 

“Rose?” his worried voice called.

Opening her eyes, she turned her head toward his voice. When her eyes found his she gave him a bright smile. Relief bloomed in him. “Hi,” she said, before squinching her eyes shut again. “Ow,” she groaned.

“You okay?” he asked, his worry for her somewhat less but still there.

“Yeah. Jus’... I’ve got a headache,” she shared before opening her eyes again. “Wait. Last night -”

“It’s okay… I mean, I think we’re both fine, but I’m pretty sure we both passed out,” he said truthfully.

“Are you alright? Are you sure,” she said, now clearly looking him over for any sign of damage.

“No really, Rose. I’m fine,” he assured her.

She let out a relieved breath. “Thank God,” she said before turning fully in the bed to face him, pulling the blanket up a bit to fully cover her breasts which he’d just gotten his first Doctorly eye full of. He swallowed thickly. 

“Do you think it did anythin’? Rose asked, her head propped up on her elbow.

So she didn’t regain her memories, then. His inner coward cheered. No confessions today. Not that now trying to pretend he didn’t know who they were was going to be much easier.

“Er… not yet. But… it’s early days, yeah?” he reasoned.

Rose blew out a breath between her lips. “Yeah, I guess. I was just hopin’ - you know. The book said it would help. Or maybe we read it wrong,” she said, worrying her lip.

His eyes fell to the white teeth now lightly biting the plump pink of her bottom lip. His cock twitched.

“Yeah, maybe,” he lied. 

“Oh well. At least we know that that mind thing is still happening… even if we didn’t have sex strictly in the name of science,” she grinned cheekily.

Unbidden, a smile found his lips. “Yeah,” he agreed. “There was definitely nothing scientific about it on my part,” he assured her, feeling a bit guilty about how very true that was. Even before being ‘John Smith’ he’d have been completely unable to remain objective and detached during any intimate contact with Rose Tyler.

He was still smiling down at her when she surprised him by leaning in and planting a soft kiss on his lips. 

And instant thrum of arousal pulsed through him causing immediate panic. Springing back from her as if bitten, he pushed himself as close to the wall as he could manage so as to put more distance between them. He mustn’t… they couldn’t…

Rose startled and jumped back with his sudden movement, shouting, “What?!” She darted her eyes around the room, probably looking for an intruder or something equally as frightening.

“Uh… Just… nothing,” he spluttered. “I mean… it’s nothing. I just… I think we should be careful, you know? I mean… after last night… us both passing out. I think there could be… it might be dangerous. For you. Us,” he finished lamely.

Rose’s expression morphed into one of confusion and maybe a bit of hurt. “Oh. Okay,” she replied.

Oh… that was _not_ an expression that belonged on her beautiful features. Softening his voice, he tried again, “I mean… it would kill me if something happened to you.” He wasn’t lying.

That seemed to do the trick. “Oh, well… alright. If you’re that worried,” she agreed. “So you think even snogging could be dangerous then?” she asked, her eyes concerned and vulnerable.

“Well, not as such, no. But… well, to be honest, snogging you… it’s sort of difficult not to want more, you know?” he said, aware he sounded like he was almost pleading.

A little smile lit her face. “Oh yeah?” she said, her tongue sneaking out to touch her top teeth. 

“Oh, yes,” he confirmed. Again… not lying.

She continued smiling as she climbed out of bed, letting the sheet slide fully from her body. He wasn’t sure, but he thought maybe a little squeak of alarm escaped him as he watched her walk to stand by the door, her curves drawing his eyes, making them follow her movement. Turning to face him she played with a lock of her hair. He couldn’t help it. His eyes raked down the front of her to take in her glorious body. Gods, she was… perfect. “Guess we’ll just have to wait for a bit before we can ‘dance’ again then,” she grinned sinfully, clearly allowing him one last leer at what he was going to be missing. Dearest Rassilon - why had he thought this would be a bad idea again?

Turning, she padded out of the room toward the loo. Flopping back onto his back, he let out a deep sigh. This was going to be hell.


	14. The Pull

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm allowing myself an early post because I managed to write a fair bit of a difficult chapter coming up. Behaviourism at its finest! Anyway... about THIS chapter... this one was difficult, but SO fun to write. A few more answers are contained herein, encased in muse satisfying content. Mwahaha!!!

### The Restoration : Chapter 14 - The Pull

It turned out they’d woken early enough to head to classes and Rose had been excited about the prospect. As much as he knew his old Rose would be fine skipping a class they were using as a cover, _this_ Rose was obviously worried about it. She had grades to keep up, after all, as far as she was concerned. In addition, he had to concede that they might discover more about what was going on if they covertly investigated while they went about their days as usual. The Doctor (still ‘John’ to his bondmate… dear Rassilon) dearly disliked the idea of being parted from Rose for any length of time, but it wasn’t like they hadn’t done this before - separating to gather intel while looking into questionable events on various planets. Still… this was different. She didn’t know who she really was and there was something out there that was clearly targeting her for her memories. No… he didn’t like this one bit. But what was he gonna do? Tie her to the bed and keep her there until this was all over?

That graphic image immediately became naked before his mental eyes and he had to concentrate to clothe it again. It was not an easy feat. His body seemed completely intent on having more sex with Rose Tyler. Over breakfast alone he’d come up with an impressive two hundred and forty-seven different positions they could do it in, if he counted the ones that involved swings, poles, and the anti-gravity room. And he counted them.

After they ate, they dressed (in separate rooms) and left the flat to walk to campus together. They held hands the entire way, which the Doctor decided would have been fine with old Rose. Surely when this was over she wouldn’t fault him for a bit of hand holding? They’d done plenty of that before losing their memories, after all. His mind quickly jumped to consider whether she’d mind if they shared the odd little peck. They often gave each other affectionate kisses on the cheek and she’d full out snogged him as Cassandra. Then there was the time she kissed him on Krop Tor. If the helmet of the stupid orange spacesuit hadn’t been in the way, her lips would’ve probably ended up on his, right?

No. _NO_ , he made himself decide. A peck would lead to a kiss and a kiss would lead to a full out snog and a snog…

NO.

His internal musings petered off as they neared McDonald Hall. 

“I guess this is it,” Rose said as they neared the doors. She had been saying something before that, but if he was honest, all he heard was her lilting voice as a background to a very distracting inner vision of him slowly removing her clothes… 

“John?” she said, squeezing his hand.

“Hmmm? Oh...right. Yes,” he startled a bit, coming back to himself. “Good luck today. I guess we’ll meet back at your place after classes? Hopefully by then we’ll have something to go on that’ll help us figure this all out,” he suggested, recovering nicely, he thought.

“Alright. Be careful, yeah?” she insisted, looking up into his eyes for confirmation.

“Yeah,” he smiled down. “Always am.”

Turning, she tossed him a little wave as she walked through the doors. He was pretty proud he’d let her go without letting himself be pulled in by the magnets that were her lips, but at the same time it felt completely _wrong_. This whole ‘ _keep your distance_ ’ thing was definitely overrated. Trying to push the disquieting feeling aside, he started off toward the physics building, which was almost clear across campus.

He wasn’t even halfway there when the disquiet he’d felt earlier escalated into discomfort. Looking around, he eyed the area. Other students were walking, some jogging, in an effort to get to their first class on time. Nothing out of place, really. Nothing he could pinpoint that might cause the unease he was feeling.

Maybe he should head back to Rose. Just to be sure she was safe.

Shaking his head, he continued moving ahead. She was fine. She was in a building full of people. Surely these… beings… wouldn’t try to steal someone’s memories in full view of an auditorium of students.

About three quarters of the way there he started to slow. A dull but palpable ache was building in his chest. What the hell was going on? Doing a cursory mental check of his vascular and respiratory systems, he found nothing amiss. Well _something_ was going on. The walk to his class felt like he was hiking the bloody camino for some reason. Looking around once more, he surveyed the area. Once again… nothing. 

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. He had already sorted that it was a non-human race that must be at work here, stealing memories from the locals and making others disappear, but he hadn’t worked out which species it might be. Could be any number, really. The few clues they had helped to narrow the culprits down somewhat, but what he needed was more information to weed out the truth of what was at work here. Anything might be helpful, so if how he was feeling right now was some sort of clue, he’d best bloody well heed it.

Honouring his gut feeling, he stayed put for another full minute, commanding his six senses to be alert for anything unusual in the environment. Again… not a thing.

In the back of his mind, he felt his sentient ship hum from a distance. She was still here. Safe. That was good. He’d parked her a good ways off when they landed here so she wouldn’t be discovered if they were. And apparently they had been. Discovered, that is. Weeeellll… more like… assimilated. That was probably more accurate. After all, if their assailants knew what he was, he probably wouldn’t be walking around free at the moment. It was therefore more likely they had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had become unwitting victims of memory stealing and replacement like the rest of the population here. 

He still wasn’t sure how it’d happened. It had been early evening when he and Rose had started heading back to the TARDIS to meet Jack after discovering practically nothing about what was causing the low level energy field surrounding the town. Something about the situation sat wrongly with his blonde companion before he’d even considered landing and she told him as much. Being oh so much older and wiser, though, he’d explained away her trepidation as being an emotional side effect of the slight increase in the gravitational pull over the anomaly. There was nothing to be too worried about, he’d assured her… the anomaly itself wasn’t anything particularly alarming, really. In fact, the TARDIS probably wouldn’t even have caught it if they hadn’t been flying directly above it at the time. It was likely just the remnants of an ancient crashed ship with a ujouller engine that was still cooling… those things could take thousands of years to completely release the joulant particles that powered them. Still… he figured they should investigate all the same. He never put it past his favourite bipedal species to get themselves into trouble the minute he turned his back, after all. 

Apparently he should’ve heeded Rose’s intuition, though, because on the way back to the TARDIS that evening, they had been attacked. He honestly didn’t recall much about the event. Only that he’d felt suffocated. Like some pressure had pushed its way into him without his consent. He remembered hearing Rose cry out beside him and recalled feeling panic that something was happening to her as well. After that it all went black.

And that had been...Gods. According to his impressive sixth sense, he’d been here being ‘John Smith’ for a full three months now. It was pretty remarkable, the backstory they’d created for him and Rose, really. He had to give their attackers credit for creativity. Create a vague enough backstory for their victims and plant a strong enough suggestion to make them avoid trying to delve too deep into it, and they’d make a perfect willing herd of memory donors. If these beings were indeed harvesting memories specifically, that is.

The more he thought about it though, the less it made sense. If they’d actually harvested, or _taken_ , their memories, he wouldn’t have been able to ever access them again no matter what the bonding did to his mind. No… there was more to it than that. He was pretty sure the memories had never been removed from his mind at all. For some reason he’d just been unable to access them. They’d been blocked. 

Before he’d realized it, his feet had carried him to the doors of the physics building. His thoughts had been successful at distracting him from the growing discomfort in his body as he’d made his way here, but as he crossed the threshold into the building the ache in his chest bloomed to encompass his stomach as well, making him feel nauseous. There was definitely something trying to pull him away from here. This feeling he was having wasn’t just some illness. Something didn’t want him there. Weeellll… good luck stopping him now, he decided. Taking a deep breath, he pressed ahead.

The halls were bustling as students made their way to their various classes in the crowded corridors. For a moment he surveyed the throng before him. The idea of walking further into the building through all these people actually felt quite daunting. He needed to leave. Yes. That’s it.

If it wasn’t for his impressive reasoning skills, he was quite sure he’d have done exactly that, but his brain insisted he mustn’t. There was a force at work that wanted him to run back in the direction he’d come, and he wasn’t about to give in to it. There was something here to discover and there was some power at work that didn’t want him to find it. He was sure of it. 

Taking a steadying breath, he aimed his eyes down at the floor and pushed his way into the bustling crowd, working to focus his attention on the path ahead of him instead of the walls trying to close in on him. It worked for a bit, but with each shoulder that bumped his, the pull he felt seemed to increase and the anxiety within him grew. 

Finally making it to the classroom, he stood for a moment to lean against the door frame and catch his breath. His hearts were pounding and on top of the now quite substantial pressured ache in his chest and belly, his head was beginning to throb. Eying ‘John’s’ usual spot at the large table in the centre of the room he moved to it and sat heavily to cradle his head in his hands. 

“You alright, mate?” a familiar voice asked as a warm hand landed on his shoulder.

Turning his head he found Russell, one of the other seven students in this class, looking at him with concern. 

“Yeah, thanks. Just overdid it last night,” he lied.

Russell chuckled. “Blimey, John. What were you thinkin’? This exam’s worth fifteen percent of the grade,” he said shaking his head.

“Exam?” he asked. Russell’s eyebrows raised in amazement. “Oh, right. The exam,” the Doctor repeated, now remembering what the hell Russell was talking about. 

“How could you forget? Oh, man… I hope your brain is as impressive as you keep sayin’ it is,” he grinned.

“Bloody hell. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately,” he said then, taking the opening. “I’ve been forgetting everything lately,” he said conversationally. “Last week there was a whole night I can’t recall,” he added, looking at the bloke beside him expectantly. 

“Yeah… you probably went on a bender that night too,” his friend smiled, elbowing him. 

“What about you?” the Doctor continued undeterred. “A few other people I’ve talked to have said they’re forgetting a lot of things lately too.”

Russell seemed about to answer when their professor strolled into the room. “Good morning, class,” he said too cheerily, plunking his briefcase and books down on the table before scooping up a handful of papers. “I assume you’re all anxious to share your brimming knowledge of neutron stars?”

The Doctor let out a shaky breath. He’d hoped to do a few informal interviews on memory loss before class started. Now it seemed he’d have to wait until the exam was over. The problem was, he wasn’t completely sure he was going to be able to hold out until then. Everything inside him felt taut, like his soul was straining against a power so intense it might just pull his very essence straight out of his body if he didn’t give in and flee this place. 

“You may begin,” Dr. Johnson announced.

Beside him, Russell began writing. Looking down at the paper before him, he worked to focus on the print but found it impossible. The words on the page swam before his eyes and seemed to jump with each pulse of pain that shot through his head.

“Mr. Smith, is there a problem?” the professor’s deep voice rumbled from the head of the table. 

Looking up, the Doctor found the entire room swimming in his vision. The tightness in his body seemed to be increasing exponentially with each passing second. Any moment now he would snap.

Jumping up from his chair, it toppled over with a loud clang making a couple of the other students squeak in alarm. 

“Mr. Smith!” Dr. Johnson called in surprise as the Doctor clutched his head, backing away from the table. 

“John?” He heard Russell call before his legs took it upon themselves to run. Out the door and down the hall and around the corner and out through the large main doors and into the street. He didn’t stop there, though. It was like he was the stone in some sort of cosmic slingshot. Whatever force he’d been trying to exert against the counteracting pull was now completely gone and he was flying forward… toward… he wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. He was powerless against it. But there was no question now. What he’d thought earlier… that there was some force trying to repel him from the physics building… he now knew had it been the exact opposite. The whole time he’d thought he was being pushed away, his body was actually being pulled _toward_ something else. 

He barely had time to consider what that might be before he found the pull on his soul decreasing slightly and his breath starting to come easier. The pain he’d been experiencing still played through him, but there was no question it had diminished considerably. In the distance he could see McDonald Hall. Rose. 

Just the thought of her sent a bolt of relief through him. Rose. His Rose. Rassilon! It was her. _She_ was the destination… where she was was where he had to be!

With every step closer he got to the hall, he felt the pull on him lessen and the pain in his body and head recede. Then it hit him. White hot anxiety flew through him. If _he_ felt like this being seperated from her…

Ahead of him the flashing of lights caught his attention near the doors of the building. He felt his hearts all but stop beating. Rose! 

Impossibly, he found himself running even faster toward the one person his hearts belonged to. The distance between him and the building she was housed in seemed to be impossibly far and despite his olympic record worthy speed, it felt like he was barely moving. He had to be with her. Now.

Finally he neared the doors and the ambulance parked out front. Peeking inside the emergency vehicle as he darted past it, he found no one inside. She was still in there. Throwing the doors open, he ran into the hall to find a cluster of people huddled together on the left side of the auditorium. Pushing his way through the throng he found Rose lying on the floor, her eyes firmly shut but her body restlessly twitching. A moan of unmistakable relief issued from her as he neared. 

“John...” she fretted, her eyes still closed.

“I’m here,” he puffed, catching his breath as he fell to his knees beside her to smooth back the damp hair stuck to her forehead.

Her eyelids fluttered open then and her eyes found his. A sigh of relief left her. “John.”

“Yeah. It’s me,” he affirmed, trying to look reassuring instead of completely terrified.

“Sorry sir. We should check her,” one of the blokes in the emergency crew informed him gently.

“I’m not moving,” he said coldly without looking at him, one hand lightly gripping Rose’s arm and the other continuing to caress her hair. 

Rose brought her hand up then to cover his. “I’m alright, John. It’s okay,” she reassured him, her expression honest. He studied her for a moment, looking for any sign she might be hiding something. “Really,” she said, obviously trying to calm him.

“We really need to check her,” the EMT said, now physically encouraging him to move.

“Go on, John. Just… stay close, yeah?” she entreated.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her as he reluctantly allowed himself to be moved aside. 

Rose didn’t take her eyes from him as the paramedics checked her over. As he watched her being examined, he felt his hearts slow a bit. She was alright. She was alright.

After a couple of minutes, one of the blokes attending to her looked up at him. “As far as I can tell, she’s fine. Her heart rate and blood pressure are a bit high, but still within normal limits. There’s no sign of head injury…”

“I think I just… I haven’t been eatin’ well lately,” Rose said as she was helped to sit. “Might be a bit dehydrated as well,” she offered.

The Doctor edged his way in again to kneel beside her, feeling an almost overwhelming need to touch her again. She obviously felt similarly, as her hand immediately searched his out.

“We should still take you in to be sure there’s nothing more serious going on,” the other EMT suggested, beginning to pack up his equipment. “It looks like you probably had a seizure, miss. It’s nothing you should take lightly,” he warned.

“Oh… I don’t think I really need to go in,” Rose said, looking for reassurance from the Doctor. Well… _John_.

“It’s been a long week for her,” the Doctor chimed in. “I think she probably just needs rest and a good meal,” he added.

The paramedic looked at them both and shook his head. “Up to you. I strongly suggest you come in, but I can’t make you,” he said to Rose pointedly.

Nodding her understanding, she said, “Thank-you, but I think I just want to go home.” 

The EMT sighed. “I suggest you drink lots of fluids and rest. If you notice anything unusual or you feel lightheaded you should definitely come in, alright?”

“Alright, yeah,” Rose agreed. 

Helping her to her feet, the Doctor wrapped his arm protectively around her, guiding her from the hall behind the paramedics. Behind them he heard the professor instruct the student to take their seats. 

Once outside he led her to a nearby bench and encouraged her to sit beside him. She was alright. She was going to be fine. Beside him he felt her snuggle closer, tucking herself firmly into his side. Without a second thought, he pressed a kiss against her forehead. She was safe. A palpable feeling of relief and giddiness welled in him. Gods. 

“What happened to me?” he heard Rose nearly whisper as she leaned her head against his chest.

An ache replaced the beat of his hearts. She must’ve been so scared. She was an incredibly brave woman, but if _he’d_ felt so very near snapping earlier, he couldn’t imagine what she must’ve felt like. 

“I have a feeling it’s something to do with the flashing lights and the mind reading that happened when we… when we, er… you know. I think we have to make sure we don’t get too far away from each other, or that might happen again,” he fibbed. That wasn’t what was happening and he knew it. This was their bond. It had to be. He hadn’t anticipated it, because he’d obviously never been through it and evidently he hadn’t done enough research on the topic. Now he wished fervently he’d read more about it. The bond was making sure they didn’t stray far from each other. The closer they were, in every sense, the more comfortable they were both emotionally and physically. It made sense in an evolutionary way. The closer you were, the more likely both partners could keep each other safe and the more likely you were to, er… procreate. 

Procreate. Dear Jupa.

“Well, we’d better stick together, then, ‘cause I’m not up to going through that again,” Rose said tiredly.

Kissing the crown of her head, he breathed in the fruity smell of her shampoo and the underlying, incredibly alluring scent that was just ‘Rose’. He’d smelled her before, of course, but now her body seemed to be emitting a cocktail of pheromones that held him captive. All he wanted to do was breathe her in. If he could spend the rest of his life, regeneration after regeneration, just being surrounded by everything that was Rose Tyler, he’d die happy.

That’s not going to happen though, he warned himself. This was going to end when they get back to the TARDIS. He was going to find a way to ‘unbond’ them and he and Rose would go back to how they were before all this. It was how it had to be.

A cool gust of wind found them as they sat huddled together on the bench and Rose shivered. A protective bolt shot through him. Right. Take care of Rose. Priority number one. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Let’s get you somewhere warm, yeah? And you’d do well with water and a bite to eat as well,” he advised.

Against his chest, Rose looked up at him with a smile. “Look at you… all bossy,” she grinned, her tongue adorably poking out between her teeth.

“Yeah, well… someone’s got to look after you, Rose Tyler. I take my eyes off you for twenty minutes and look what happens,” he said warmly, nodding toward the lecture hall.

“Touche,” she smiled. “Alright… let’s go have a snack. But you have to eat something too,” she warned.

“I think I can manage that,” he agreed as they stood. Despite that fact that he was pretty sure Rose could easily walk on her own, he kept his arm around her shoulder as they made their way to one of the campus cafeterias. If she minded, she didn’t say and he didn’t ask. At the moment, any unnecessary distance between them seemed almost painful to contemplate. He knew he was probably still healing from their earlier physical separation which was why the very idea of putting any physical distance between them made him nauseous. At least he hoped that’s what was happening, because if this feeling was the new normal, he honestly didn’t know if he’d be able to keep his hands and his mind to himself for much longer.


	15. The Time Agent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! This is a long one. I'm on vacation at the moment, so I've been spending the week writing (when I'm not escaping to air conditioned malls and restaurants). Anyhow - here's the latest instalment!

### The Restoration : Chapter 15 - The Time Agent

They did indeed get something to eat after Rose’s close call and John made sure that she drank loads of water while she sat and regained her strength. Really, she felt lots better, but she couldn’t disagree she felt a bit drained, and from the way he kept shooting concerned glances at her, she imagined she looked it as well. He figured it had something to do with the book and what happened when they had sex, and she had no better explanation. All she knew was that she needed to be close to him and that the very idea of getting any further away from him than arms length actually made her feel sick to her stomach.

He’d wanted to head back to her place so she could lay down for a while after her episode at McDonald Hall, but she’d quickly ixnayed that idea. “I’m not gonna just sleep while people are being kidnapped,” she’d insisted. “I know you’re worried about me, but I’m fine. I just wanna solve this,” she informed him in no uncertain terms.

John must’ve seen the resolve on her face, because it was only a few moments and a resigned sigh later that he gave in and suggested they head to her next class together, citing they could meet up with a few of her classmates and maybe find out whether they’d experienced memory disturbances. Secretly, Rose had to admit she was grateful he’d suggested it. As much as she was rightly more worried about whatever was happening to her and the other people in town, she couldn’t help be feel a bit anxious about missing classes. If she let her marks slide she could kiss her scholarship for next year good-bye. She therefore had agreed readily to his plan, and after he was satisfied she’d rested enough, they headed off to her Rebellions and Revolutions lecture together. It was actually a great class for him to be in with her… it was a large one in a big lecture theatre. One extra student wouldn’t be noticed. 

The class was filled to capacity, which wasn’t a surprise given the fact exams were just around the corner. Not only that, but Professor Dougall was a professor worth listening to. He really knew how to tell a story, which was exactly the quality a good history prof needed, in Rose’s opinion. The lesson focused on the French Revolution and specifically on the September Massacres in 1792. The topic was horrifying and Professor Dougall clearly knew how keep his students engaged, as he gave the lecture as if he had been there living it himself. Oddly, John kept making little comments beside her like “Clearly he wasn’t there,” and “Of course the inmates were killed… they’d discovered the invasion first.” She thought about asking him what he was talking about, but decided she’d ask him later when he wasn’t so busy rolling his eyes.

After class, Rose took John’s hand and lead him from the theatre to meet up with a few of her friends on the way out. She made small talk with them, introducing him as her ‘boyfriend’, which she realized made her squirm with a sort of joy. He’d responded to her introduction by looking a bit startled and she thought for a moment she’d made a mistake by using the title, but he quickly reassured her by squeezing her hand and giving her a heart stopping smile so full of affection she almost melted into a puddle right there. 

They hung out in the lobby for a few minutes chatting with a handful of her mates, and despite having to manipulate the conversation, Rose managed to turn the conversation to memory loss, citing her absentmindedness lately and how she actually forgot an entire evening’s worth of events. Not surprisingly now, two of her friends admitted that they too had suffered similar events. Frighteningly, it seemed to be as widespread as she and John had feared. 

They spent the rest of the day at Rose’s Medieval Institutions class… another history course she had to sit through while listening to John quietly mutter comments about how her prof was sorely misinformed. She had to admit, she wondered about his sureness about the ‘mistakes’ her prof was making. Maybe he’d done more reading about history than he’d admitted before now.

It was only a couple of hours later that they finally ended up at the campus pub with a few of Rose’s classmates. 

They made small talk for a while before Rose could work in the topic of forgetting things, which she managed to do eloquently, if she did say so herself. One friend admitted she’d found she was tired lately, falling asleep in classes and that overall her memory was rubbish. Another shared that she had been sure her French 2001 prof had been a different bloke last week, but that everyone else in her class thought she was losing it. 

It was much later in the evening when the crowd began to part and one by one, Rose’s mates left the pub. Rose and John were about to do the same when a familiar voice called in greeting. “Hey Rose! Hi John,” Chloe sang, approaching them from the direction of the entrance.

Rose stood and embraced her friend, offering a seat. “What’re you doin’ here?” she asked, remembering John’s warning to her yesterday.

“I just finished my stupid evening Philosophy lecture. God… how many weeks til the end of classes?” she huffed, plunking herself and her backpack down onto the bench beside Rose. 

“I thought I told you to stay indoors,” John reminded her, clearly frustrated. She considered admonishing him for being rude, but she couldn’t really blame him. He was just worried for her.

“I had to go to classes, didn’t I?” she retorted. “Anyway… nothin’ happened today. Same old borin’ stuff,” she shared. “Oh! But something happened last night to Jack. Have you talked to him today?” she asked Rose.

“No… why? What happened?” she asked.

“Well… he went to the pub last night and some woman… just some random blonde… sits beside him and starts chattin’ like she’s known him for years and he was, like, ‘what the hell?’ So he says, _‘Do I know you?,’_ and she gets all hurt, like, _‘What do you mean? We’ve been in the same Chemistry class all term.’_ Anyway… he’s never seen her before, he’s sure, but that didn’t stop him from pretendin’, though,” Chloe rolled her eyes. “That bloke could literally charm the whimple off of a nun,” she said.

Rose giggled, but shot John a nervous look, remembering his jealous behaviour the day before. She’d managed to convince him not to see Jack as a threat, but mostly because she’d led him to think he was gay. If he noticed her glaring omission about his bi-sexuality, though, he didn’t show it. In fact, he looked downright caught up in Chloe’s story.

“Anyway, he told me about it this mornin’. Do you think it’s important?” Chloe asked, directing her question to John.

“Oh, I think it is,” he admitted in response, an excited smile now brightening his face. “In fact it could be the most fantastic bit of information we’ve gotten so far,” he said, practically beaming. 

Despite her confusion around his sudden enthusiasm, Rose couldn’t help but smile back in response. Whatever it was he’d gleaned from Chloe’s story, it was clearly good news.

“Come on, Rose. We’ve got work to do,” he said, standing quickly and holding his hand out for her to take. “Chloe… why don’t you come with us. We’ll walk you home,” he ordered more than offered. Rose knew instinctively it was more than just him being gentlemanly. He was worried for her friend’s safety. For the millionth time that day she wished she could just shove him up against the nearest building and snog him senseless to show her appreciation for him. He really was concerned for the people here and he wasn’t afraid to risk being seen as bossy or domineering if it meant they’d be safe. 

Her friend accepted John’s offer without a fuss and they left the pub in the dark of the evening to escort her back to her flat. They made small talk all the way back, and it seemed they were purposefully _not_ talking about the elephant in the town… some memory sucking attacker who was abducting people for god knows what reason. 

Leading Chloe to her door, John did a quick once through of her flat. Finding nothing amiss, he advised her to lock up right after they left and to make sure her windows were closed and locked as well. Jack wasn’t home yet, which had Rose worried. He wasn’t any safer than anyone else. What if something had happened to him?

Hearing the door close behind them as they headed back the way they’d come, she said, “So what do we do now? What was so exciting about Jack’s meeting yesterday?”

“He didn’t remember her, Rose!” John said, as if that explanation was enough.

“Uh… yeah. I got that bit. Why is that good news for us?” Rose pursued.

“Well, if he doesn’t remember her, what do you think is gonna happen?” John said, looking down at her expectantly as they walked hand in hand out of the building.

Suddenly it dawned on her. “Oh my god. It’s gonna happen to him. They’re gonna change his memories so he remembers her,” Rose said, looking up wide eyed at him.

“Yup-a-mundo!” he agreed.

“But that means Jack’s in danger,” she said in alarm. “We have to warn him!”

John winced.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing. You’re right. We probably should,” he nodded.

“Of course we should,” she informed him. “Why wouldn’t we?”

“Weeellll… we _could_ just sort of… wait until whatever it is makes its move, and then we’d know what we’re up against,” he said lightly, as if he was simply making a benign comment about the weather. 

Rose felt her ire rising. How could he be so callous? “We can’t just let Jack get attacked! What if it takes him like it took the others?” 

He seemed about to answer when they heard an odd muffled cry from somewhere up ahead. “Come on!” John shouted, grabbing up her hand. 

Running as fast as they could toward the sounds, they found themselves at the mouth of a darkened alley behind a row of houses. A ways up a man stood pressed against a fence, transfixed. “Oh my god! Jack!” she heard herself exclaim.

Rose was about to run to him when she was yanked by the arm to the side. John all but pushed her down behind some bins before ducking in beside her. “Shhh!” he commanded, before kneeling higher to peek over the large containers. Imitating him, she looked out over the cans to see. 

Jack’s back was arched and his eyes were wide with fear. His mouth was wide open in a swallowed scream. She wasn’t sure, but she thought the air around him seemed to glitter in the moonlight.

“Nannites…” John said tensely, his jaw clenched.

Not sure what he was on about, she whispered urgently, “We have to help him.”

“There’s nothing we can do. Not yet,” John said quietly back.

What? So they were just gonna sit here while Jack had his memories stolen, or changed… or worse?! No. She couldn’t do that. She had to help him. Purposefully, Rose stood, darted around John, and ran out into the alley. 

“Rose!” she heard a fierce whisper issue from behind her.

But she wasn’t listening. She had to help Jack. Running full speed, she barrelled toward her friend, whose eyes had slid closed and whose now unconscious body was somehow being miraculously held about a foot off the ground. Around him the air seemed to shimmer and sparkle in a sort of shiny fog.

“Let him go!” she yelled insistently as she dove at Jack’s unconscious floating form.

“Rose, NO!” John’s voice cried loudly from somewhere close behind her.

But it was too late. Her body flew through the needle-like mist, hitting Jack’s with full force. She felt his body shift with the impact, but the fog around him seemed to be working against her momentum. For a terrifying moment she thought they might now both be caught in the uncomfortable pressured mist, but it seemed the force of her contact with Jack was more than the shiny cloud could work against, and in moments she they were flying through the air toward the pavement. They landed hard in a tangle of arms and legs with Jack having broken her fall. The fog above was quickly dissipating and within seconds it was not longer visible.

“ROSE!” John’s voice called moments before his hands were on her, picking her up from the ground. “Are you alright?!” he demanded, checking her over frantically.

“Yeah, yeah… I’m okay. Just shaken up,” she assured him. 

“What were you thinking? You could’ve been killed!” he barked. 

“Oi!” she bit back wrenching free of his grasp, “I had to do _something_! It could’ve killed him!”

John’s jaw was clenched tight and she swore if he had the ability he’d have hauled her off to give her a good spanking. That errant thought morphed immediately into a vivid, very arousing image. Instead, though, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, turning away from her to walk a few steps down the alley. His hand drew up to scratch the back of his neck and he turned around to face her again. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted,” he apologized, his entire body still tense. “It’s… you just worried me. You could’ve been hurt, Rose. I can’t… I can’t let you. I need you…” he admitted, his eyes dropping to the ground.

Rose’s ire softened. “I need you too, John. But I had to help him,” she reiterated. 

“I know. You’re always putting… I mean, I think you’re the kind of person who always puts others first, aren’t you. But please, Rose. _Please_ try to think of yourself as well. If anything happened to you…” he trailed off.

“Hey,” she said, approaching him. “I’m here and I’m not goin’ anywhere, yeah? I’m stayin’ with you forever, got that?” she assured him, raising her hand to run her thumb along his cheek. His eyes seemed to be reflecting some inner turmoil. “Oi. I mean it, yeah?” she pressed. He had to know how much he meant to her. 

A grunt of air escaped her as she was suddenly swept into a bone crushing embrace. “I… I…” he started before saying, “You’re very important to me, Rose Tyler. More than you’ll ever know,” he said, his mouth nestled close to her ear.

She felt herself smile. Pulling back, she looked up at him. “I feel the same about you,” she said softly, before leaning forward on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his soft lips. 

Memories of their naked bodies gliding over and in each other amplified the hungry arousal the kiss itself was wakening in her. Snaking her arms around his neck she felt his hands slide more tightly around her back to pull her even closer so she was pressed firmly against his front, her breasts crushed against his chest and his arousal pressing against her belly. 

For a moment she forgot why they shouldn’t be doing this. Nothing in the entire universe felt more _right_. Somewhere in her mind, though, a little warning voice reminded her what happened last time they’d let things escalate. 

Pulling back from their snog, she opened her eyes to find his heatedly looking down into her own. It was like she’d stoked a fire in him and she _really_ wished she could keep building it. Sighing, she made herself release him. “Sorry. I… I know you said it was hard for you if we snogged. It is for me too. But it’s harder _not_ to be close to you, you know?” she said sheepishly.

He swallowed thickly in response and took a shaky breath. “Uh… yeah. I do. I really do,” he admitted with a sad smile.

“Anyway…” she started before being interrupted by a loud, gulping inhale of breath from the ground beside them. The deep gasp startled her and she jumped back. Oh god! Poor Jack had been lying there this whole time and they’d just been ignoring him! 

Flying to his side, she helped him sit. “Jack - you okay?” she asked, checking him over. 

“We’ll need to get him back to the flat,” John said, kneeling beside Jack as he continued to pull in effortful breaths.

“Are you sure? I think maybe we should call an ambulance,” she worried.

“Oh. Right. Well… I’m pretty sure he doesn’t really need one, Rose. He’ll be fine with a bit of rest,” he told her. 

Then, before she could argue, John stood and scooped up Jack easily into his arms. It didn’t even seem effortful. Rose’s expression must’ve given away her surprise.

“What?”

“How can you carry him like that? He’s gotta have at least two stones’ weight on you,” she said with wonder.

“Oh. Right. Well… I’ve been, er… working out,” he said lamely.

Well he must be doing something, ‘cause she’d never have guessed he had such strength in him. He was fit, sure… but not necessarily really muscular. Her mind suddenly filled with ideas on how they might use that fact for their mutual entertainment…

“Rose?” his voice interrupted her randy thoughts. “We need to get indoors. We’re not safe here,” he advised her.

“Oh… right. Let’s go then,” she agreed, following him back down the alley and out into the street with Jack cradled in his arms. 

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

Their return to her flat was uneventful, save for the fact he was carrying Jack’s near-dead weight in his arms the entire way. It’s not that the man was heavy, it was just awkward, and he would much rather have been holding Rose’s hand. 

For a moment he felt a bit badly about Jack having died (again) back there, but it was no surprise. Being forcefully torn from a nanite interface was never a good scenario. If it had been anyone else, he would be carrying a truly deceased person’s body rather than that of his immortal companion.

Nanites. It was all starting to make sense now. Whatever was responsible for what was going on here was using nanites to take memories and it seemed the nanites were also programmed to plant false memories as well. The very troubling thing was that these nanites behaved in ways he’d never known they could. They seemed to be operating collectively at a level of near consciousness. Normally nanites were individually programed to swarm together around biological beings… each doing their own work as they were individually programmed to. Their behaviours weren’t coordinated as a unit. These, though… they worked together for very tangible purposes… creating dense enough mass and force to lift and propel objects and to act on the world around them in very physical ways. On top of that, they were coordinating to extract or repress real memories and implant false ones… there was no way they could do that without some sort of collective mind. He’d never seen nanites used in such a way before, and the implications were staggering. In fact… he was witnessing such implications. Mind control. 

At least one thing was clear now. If anything good was going to come of this information, it was that he was closer to finding the mastermind of the attacks. Something was controlling the nanites and once he discovered what, something could be done. Unfortunately, they were going to have to catch a few so he could analyze them. That meant they were going to have to witness and intervene in another attack, and he wasn’t anxious to put his companions in harm’s way again in order to do that. He would just have to go it alone this time.

Then it occurred to him. Unless these nanites happened to converge on someone within ¼ of a kilometer of his bondmate, he wasn’t going to be able to do this on his own. Right now he couldn’t be parted from her physically without significant risk to her and not-insignificant discomfort to himself. It wasn’t something he was willing to attempt. There had to be another way.

Finally ascending the flight of stairs to Rose’s flat with Jack now moaning in his arms, the Doctor watched Rose trot ahead of him to open the door to her flat and not surprisingly found himself thoroughly distracted from rational thought by the sway of her hips as she did so. The kiss she’d initiated earlier had been wrong. He knew that. Still… he’d been completely unable to stop it. In fact, if she hadn’t had the fortitude to pull back, he was pretty sure he’d have taken her right then and there. Such was his will power against the urge to have her. Hearing her say it again… that she was going to stay with him… that she wasn’t ever going to leave him… it roused something primal in his soul. Of course… this was ‘New’ Rose. She didn’t know what ‘staying with him forever’ really meant. Not really. But then again… _his_ Rose… his ‘Old’ Rose, had said the same to him not long ago. And she _had_ known exactly what that meant. She’d seen what his life was like. She’d seen how he could change before her eyes, yet still be the same man in many ways. Still, she’d promised. 

And if she knew and she still said it… why was he really holding back? Couldn’t he let himself have this one thing? A few decades of happiness with someone who actually knew who he was and didn’t seem to hate him for it?

Again, reality bit him. She wanted it right now… to stay with him… but what about years from now? When she looked older but he didn’t? When she regretted not having a regular home and PTA meetings? And… he reminded himself… what if she didn’t want the same thing he did? All that was happening now was because ‘New Rose’ fell for him. ‘Old Rose’ may not have feelings in that direction and if he put his hearts out on the line only to have them cut to ribbons…

“You can just put ‘im in the guest room, I guess,” Rose instructed, startling him back into reality as she opened the apartment door.

“Right. Yeah,” he agreed, sliding past her down the hall to deposit Jack on the bed. It was taking a long time for him to come back to himself this time, the Doctor noted. Those nanites must’ve done some damage.

Rose eased by him to move to Jack’s side, sitting beside him on the bed. “John, could you get him a glass of water?” she requested, smoothing the fringe of Jack’s hair back from his sweaty forehead. 

The now familiar feeling of jealousy reared it’s ugly head as he watched the tender gesture being administered to anyone but him. The rational part of him knew how ridiculous he was being, but the bonded part of him didn’t care. He wanted to pull her away from the attractive Time Agent and haul her to her room to ravish her… show her who her bondmate was. It was primal and savage and insane, but he couldn’t deny the feeling. Taking a calming breath, he managed to squash it down, which he was pretty proud of given the intensity of it, and nodded his agreement before trundling off to the kitchen to retrieve the water. This Rose would never cheat on him. He knew that. But what about his ‘Old Rose’. He had no claim over her heart, save for the enforced one that existed now only because of the bond. What if she might want something like this with someone else. With Jack?

An irrational rage welled in him. She couldn’t. No, really… she couldn’t. Physically couldn’t. Intercourse with someone other than your bondmate would result in great pain for a Time Lord and once again, her humanness made the equation that much more complicated. Who knew what result infidelity might have on her? Gods. It was another thing he’d have to admit to her once this was all over… _’By the way, not only are we bonded, but you can pretty much forget ever having sex again with anyone if you’re not interested in me, because it might literally kill you.’_ Yeah. He imagined that conversation was going to go over well.

Sighing he returned to the bedroom with the glass of water in hand. Rose was still perched on the side of the bed and turned when he entered to take the glass from him with a “Thanks.” Putting it on the night table, she stood. “I don’t know what else to do for him,” she admitted worriedly.

Jack sighed. “He just needs to sleep, I think, Rose. If he’s still not well in the morning, we’ll take him in, alright?” he suggested, knowing well enough that Jack would be up and annoying everyone again by sunrise. 

“I suppose,” she said, biting her thumbnail as she studied her mate who now appeared to be sleeping on the bed.

“Come on. Let’s have some tea,” he suggested, wrapping an arm around her shoulder (perhaps a bit possessively) to guide her from the room, shooting one last look at Jack over his shoulder as he did so.

They settled in the kitchen after he made a cup of tea for each of them and she put out a plate of biscuits. They nibbled on them and drank some tea and talked about what it might’ve been that she’d seen attacking Jack in the alley. Of course, he knew exactly what it was, and he’d proposed his factual knowledge as a hypothesis to her. In fairness, she didn’t dismiss his idea outright, but thought it was unlikely. Given their situation and the fact she figured her theories were as founded as his, it was fair enough. After all - to her, he was just another student with a couple of years on her… he wasn’t a Lord of Time with lifetimes of experience travelling the universe.

With their tea gone and the biscuits eaten, they headed to bed. Rose needed rest after her physically harrowing day, and he had to admit that their parting earlier had taken its toll on him as well. It was rare for him to feel as drained as he did tonight. 

Bedtime was awkward and as tempting as he’d feared it would be. On her way to the loo she’d tried to duck in for a kiss, but the Doctor had gently extracted her before it became anything more than a peck. He honestly didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself if it did. 

After returning to her room, they undressed, but Rose didn’t seem to have any qualms about pulling her clothes off before his too eager eyes and it took all his willpower to turn his back to give ‘Old Rose’ her privacy. There was an excellent chance that when this was over, she’d remember every moment of her university career including their ‘relationship’, and he couldn’t have her recalling him leering at her, practically drooling over her incredible, lithe body. 

Thoughts of her silky skin sliding over his and her curves under his palms immediately filled his mind. Her hands would drift up his back to tug at his hair as he trailed kisses down her belly to where he would be able to taste her...

With his back still turned, he heard sheets rustling and the bed creaking. Rose was covered up. Moving to the switch, the Doctor flipped off the lights and crawled in beside her, making sure to face in the opposite direction. It would hardly do to be poking her in the back (or, Gods forbid, her front) with his now obvious erection. “Good night, Rose,” he said softly, turning his head.

“Yeah,” she replied cooly. 

That didn’t seem right. Turning onto his back, he looked at her in the dim light filtering in from the window. She was facing the other way. “You alright?” he asked.

“‘M fine,” she replied, still facing the wall. 

“Really?” he asked, pretty sure she wasn’t fine. As bad as he was at reading people sometimes, he was quite sure she wasn’t telling the whole truth.

“Yeah… I said I’m okay. I’m just… I’m tired. Good-night,” she stated, pulling the blankets up higher to cover her up to her ears.

“Oh. Right, okay,” he answered. Laying on his back, he stared up at the ceiling. Was she really just tired? Could be. She’d bloody almost died earlier, for Rassilon’s sake, so it would make complete sense if that was the case. Still… he couldn’t shake the feeling she wasn’t telling him something. Sighing, he turned back around to face the room. Whatever it was, hopefully she’d tell him in the morning. Right now, he actually needed to sleep. They had a long day tomorrow and he had to work out how he was going to catch a few of these nanites to study. It wasn’t going to be easy, and it would likely involve watching someone else being assaulted by the tiny robots. What were the chances Rose would be able to actually let that happen? Not high, he figured. And how would he convince her she could kill the victim if she repeated what she’d done with Jack? Inwardly, he shook his head. He’d have to figure out a way to explain it to her in the morning.

Beneath him, he felt the bed shake ever so slightly. What…

Turning, he found Rose’s back shaking slightly and he heard a muffled sniff. “Rose?”

A louder sniffle came from her then, but she turned further away from him. “Rose… what’s wrong?” he said, worry now permeating his body.

No answer came, but her shoulders continued shaking. Whatever it was, he was sure he was the cause of it. Somehow he’d bollocks-ed things up… but he honestly wasn’t sure how. And this… watching her in pain was not acceptable. She was his bondmate. His… his… Rose. And it was not alright for her to feel this way, especially if it was because of him. 

Turning on his side, he pulled her shaking body into his arms. For a moment he thought she might push herself away, but instead she turned toward him and buried her face against his chest. She was crying openly now, and it was killing him. He pressed kisses into her hair and murmured things like ‘Shhhh,’, and ‘I’m sorry, Rose,’ and even, ‘I’m here, love.’ It was the last phrase that he was surprised came so naturally. It flowed from him unbidden and uncensored and it felt completely right. 

After a few more minutes stroking her hair and whispering what he hoped were comforting words, her body relaxed against his and her breathing evened out. Another couple of minutes after that, he thought he heard a soft snore escape the woman in his arms. She was sleeping.

He knew he should probably untangle himself from around her… that he should put a bit of distance between them so she didn’t wake up with a randy Time Lord ravishing her in the morning… but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he wrapped his arms even a bit more tightly around her and tried to soak in the feeling of her body against his. This was where she belonged. Where _he_ belonged. Holding her. And despite his mind’s insistence that he must heed his younger self’s decision, he found his carefully constructed reasons for keeping her at arm’s length were becoming less and less important. 

Closing his eyes, he buried his nose in her hair and took a deep breath. Contentment radiated through him as he felt himself drift off, the pressure of her in his arms making him drunk with peace. Brilliant calm permeated his mind and body and he floated in it, sure he hadn’t experienced such serenity since… well… if he’d _ever_ experienced it. 

Dreams soon took hold and for once they weren’t full of war and fear. They were full of Rose. He and Rose together… celebrating mutual affection and… gods. Dare he even dream it? Lo-

A jolt shocked him from sleep and almost simultaneously he felt himself being invaded. A familiar, terrible pressure pushed into him… into his mouth and his nose, filling him. Choking him. 

Flailing, he tried in vain to close himself off, but the part of him that wasn’t being consumed with alarm and pain reminded him that these were nanites. They had no collective physical form he’d be able to fight. He was powerless.

Somewhere outside himself he heard Rose cry out and he felt her body beside his, trying to fight off their attackers. Everything he was made of needed to help her, but the nanites were winning. With equal parts terror for Rose and anger at himself, he realized there was nothing he could do for her. 

Just then, inside his head, something popped and an overwhelming ache bloomed in his skull. Rose’s muffled cries were the last thing he heard before his mind shut down.


	16. The Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much, my dear readers, for reading, commenting, faving, and kudoing (is that a word?)! I appreciate you all SO MUCH!
> 
> As far as this chapter goes, I tried to tell my muse to behave. I don't know that it worked.

### The Restoration : Chapter 16 - The Lost

A gnawing, raw ache drew him into consciousness from somewhere where only tranquility existed. Why was he leaving such a paradise? Skittering back into his mind, searching again for that inky peace… the place free of this pulling, heart wrenching pain… he sought desperately for renewed oblivion.

It wasn’t to be, however. Instead, a tightness he was sure he’d experienced before pulled at his very soul, sucking him into awareness. Gasping in a stifled breath, his eyes opened and blinked against light streaming in from a nearby window. Where was he? Turning his head, he found his nose full of the linen making up Rose’s pillowcase. Rose?

Just the thought of her name sent a stab of pain through his head making him groan. Reaching his arm across the bed, he found her side cold and empty.

Suddenly the feeling tearing at his insides made complete and terrifying sense. “ROSE!” he said in alarm, clambering off of the bed and up onto his feet. “ROOOOOSE!” he shouted now in complete panic. She was gone. Rose was gone. And she wasn’t close. Everything inside him insisted she was further away from him than was safe for her. He had to find her.

Pulling his trousers on, his pained mind worked in overdrive to figure out where she might be. Clearly she was taken. Last night… the crushing weight he’d felt… the ache in his head when he thought of her… the nanites had been trying to rewrite his memories… to erase her from them, he was sure.

But where would they have taken her? She was alive, at least. Of that, he was sure. If she wasn’t, he would no longer be feeling this way. There would be a gaping hole where her presence should be in his head. So, while the searing pressure pulling at him was agonizing, it was a sign that Rose was alive and in one piece. He honestly welcomed this pain if it meant Rose was alright.

But he knew better than that. She wouldn’t be alright. In fact, she was probably far from it. If he was feeling this way, the symptoms she was experiencing would be at least three times worse. If she was lucky, she might still be unconscious from their attack last night and she wouldn’t be feeling it.

Quickly looking around the room for his shirt, his gaze landed on the dresser. On it, the bound leather book sat unassumingly atop a pile of Rose’s clothes. The book! Why hadn’t he thought of it before?

Darting over to grab it up, he quickly flipped it open. He was about to riffle through the pages when it occurred to him. The paper. He and Rose had been wondering at its texture when he was still John, but now he knew exactly why it felt so odd. It was psychic paper. But not just _any_ psychic paper. Noooo! It was temporal psychic paper, which meant...

Excitedly, he skipped ahead in the book to find the passages they’d last read, and sure enough, more handwriting had appeared. For a moment he examined it. It wasn’t Rose’s writing. He’d recognize the swirling letters if they were hers. No… this was someone else’s cursive script. But who would’ve left the book exactly in the right spot in the library for Rose to find? It had to have been someone with access to Time Lord technology. No other species was capable of creating temporal psychic paper. No… this had to have been left by a future version of either himself or Rose. No one else would’ve known where she would be and when. But it wasn’t his own writing, and if Rose hadn’t written it… Wait. Could it be a future regeneration of him who wrote this? Maybe his eleventh self and Rose wrote this together at some point in their future?

Oh, he liked to think that was the case. If that was so, then she’d made it out of this nightmare in one blessed piece! And, he dared to think, maybe she wasn’t gonna leave him after they got out of here. Maybe they would get this bond taken care of and she’d accept his apology. Or maybe… maybe she’d agree to… maybe they’d somehow…

No. _That_ he dare not even hope.

 _‘You don’t have time for this,’_ he practically heard his ninth self admonish him. He was right. This was hardly the time to go through future relationship scenarios and the ache in his body confirmed it. He had to find his Rose. Now.

Putting the book down, he found his shirt and pulled it over his head before grabbing it back up and heading for the door. He didn’t know exactly where he was headed, but he knew he couldn’t stay where he was. He’d head in the direction his body encouraged him to… the direction that would decrease the pull and loosen the choking grasp on his soul.

As he moved out of the flat and into the street, he tried to read through the text that followed what he and Rose had last read together in the leather bound psychic paper filled book. Focusing, he worked to actually decipher the words that were floating before him. Being separated from Rose was taking its toll which he knew meant so much more than mere pain for him. Forcing himself to concentrate, he read the next passages;

 

_The next days were filled with discoveries, most of which foretold a frightening future for not only myself and Jonathan, but also for all those we cared for. But those discoveries were not the only things that created fear within me. What frightened me more was that Jonathan seemed to be pulling away from me. The love we had shared that had bound us together now seemed to be creating a fear within the one who I’d given my heart to. It appeared as if the one thing that had brought us irreversibly together was only serving to tear him further from my side, and that knowledge hurt me more than anything._

 

The Doctor stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the words swimming before him. Her tears… her pain last night… it had been because of him. Of course, he’d assumed that, but he truly hadn’t understood.

 _Of course you did,_ a sarcastic voice chimed in his head. _You knew it. Deep down, you knew it._ And he had to admit… the idea had occurred to him and he had actively ignored it. He didn’t want to admit it… that it could be his callous and flippant disregard of her current feelings that might have been the cause of her sadness. But of course it was. She loved him. This Rose… she loved him. And, as John, he’d openly acknowledged it before he’d remembered who he really was. And he had all but said that he loved her as well, but since he’d regained his memories he’d basically done nothing to acknowledge her continued need for his affection. His affirmation. Of course it would hurt her. Damn it.

Finally making his feet resume their effort to move him forward, he read more.

 

_I wasn’t to let that deter me, however. I was determined to uncover the horrible reason for the disappearance of our friends and acquaintances, no matter what pain my heart was coping with._

_We were close. I could feel it. And it was only when my proximity to the threat became physical that my fate was sealed. In an effort to save a friend from pain, I made a fatal mistake. I exposed myself to the beast and made it aware that I was ready. Ready for harvesting._

 

So was that why she was taken? Had the nanites analyzed her during her rescue of Jack and decided she was somehow ‘ripe’? The thought made him pause. Jack. He hadn’t checked on him before he’d left. Had he been taken as well? Damn it! Why hadn’t he checked?

_Because you can only think about Rose,_ his inner voice reminded him. _She is all you’ve thought of since you met her. She has been your reason for living since ‘Run’._ The thought brought sharp, stinging tears to his eyes as he continued pushing forward. It’s true. Despite all his arguments and denials (to Jack, but primarily to himself), she had become his whole universe. The whole bloody thing was only worth saving because she existed in it. At least, that was how his hearts felt. And Gods… he needed her in it. 

__Realizing he’d lost sight of the reason he’d consulted the book in the first place, he refocused on the page open in his hands._ _

__

_And harvest it did. I had been nestled in Jonathan’s arms, still aching from his rejection, when it happened. As usual, Jonathan had come to me in a dream, but this time his warnings ended in words that were even more foreboding than last time;_

__

_Something’s in the air. Something’s coming. A storm’s approaching..._

_And that’s when it hit me with it’s howling winds and it’s piercing hail. The storm descended. It was then I was overwhelmed. The air was stolen from my lungs and my thoughts were stolen from my mind. I was taken from the man I loved and pulled away in torment to exist under the earth in the only place where words could shout in silence. It was hell, as far as I could imagine. Pain and agony pulled at me from all sides making my life pure misery. It was then I wished for death, for I would rather live in the afterlife waiting for my love to join me than exist in torment such as this._

__

__That was where the passage ended. Damn it! Why had he slept last night? If he’d only stayed awake and kept watch! Slamming the book shut and stuffing it in his back pocket, he trudged ahead. ‘Under the earth’. What the hell did it mean? Were they using some kind of underground bunker?_ _

__He needed to scan the area and find out if there was a place ‘where words could shout in silence’, and the only way he could do that was with the TARDIS. Unfortunately, his beloved ship was in the exact opposite direction from where he needed to be and there was a very real possibility he’d put Rose in even more danger if he dared to try heading further away from her. So as much as he understood in his head that the TARDIS would be able to help, he knew he couldn’t alter his course._ _

__Wracking his brain, he fisted his hands in frustration. Think! There must be a way…_ _

__The town hall. It was close, and it would give him the information he needed. Detouring only slightly from his original trajectory he stopped at the old grey stone building and ascended the steps to enter the stuffy lobby._ _

__“Can I help you?” an elderly grey haired lady asked from behind a large desk._ _

__“Uh… yeah. I was wondering if I might have a look at the city plans for the university area? I’m doing a research project for an engineering class,” he lied easily._ _

__“Oh. Well… let’s see,” the woman said, consulting her computer for a minute. “Alright, well… you can find those in section C4,” she informed him, pointing behind her and to the left._ _

__“Thanks,” he said, giving her his most winning smile._ _

__Scooting quickly past her to head in the direction she’d indicated, the Doctor quickly found the section he was looking for. Riffling through the rolls of plans, he read the labels of each before finally coming across the ones he was looking for. Pulling out five relevantly titled scrolls, he moved them to a nearby table to study them._ _

__The first held the plans for the medical sciences building, which didn’t reveal anything interesting. The second scroll, the one that laid out the plans for the library also held no clue as to where Rose might be. He tried the rest and found them equally as unhelpful. Bloody hell!_ _

__Pulling his hands through his hair he stood for a moment, trying to think rationally._ _

__Then it occurred to him. Quickly rifling through the scrolls he found the one for the library. ‘ _Under the earth in the only place where words could shout in silence_ ’ The library! Of course! It was probably one of only two or three buildings with at least one sub-basement and it was smack dab in the direction he’d been heading after leaving Rose’s place. That’s where she must be!_ _

__Abandoning the scrolls still open on the table he took off at a run, darting past the surprised town hall receptionist and out into the street. The pull in his chest still stung and his head still ached. The library was still a good distance away. Gods… how long would Rose be able to tolerate the agony she must be going through? The very idea that she was suffering was intolerable, but this was so much worse than mere suffering for her. It was her very mind that was at stake. Maybe her life. At that moment he cursed his bloody superior dominating biology. If he’d been a simple human like he’d thought he was when he’d first made love with Rose she might not be in such immediate danger._ _

__But none of that mattered now. He couldn’t change any of it at the moment. All that mattered now was finding her and freeing her. Putting on a burst of speed, he headed toward the library._ _

__

__OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_ _

__

_Something’s in the air. Something’s coming. A storm’s approaching…_

__The words coming from the man in the dream had been full of dread this time from the moment he opened his mouth. Reaching out for him, Rose felt some powerful entity pluck her breath, her body, and her memories from her as if she were an errant child being punished for some misdeed. Pain replaced them. She felt her body try to fight back and she was sure she’d cried out. She must’ve. How could she have stayed quiet when her body was demanding she release her pain in some way. Suffocating pressure played through her and her head began to sing with pain. It was then her mind was blessedly yanked from consciousness._ _

__Now here she was. Dreaming. Just… being. At least, she thought that’s what she was doing. She had no sense of her body at all, actually, now that she considered it. It was… somewhere else. Shouldn’t she be trying to find it?_ _

__A real sense of unease trickled through her thoughts to colour them with a murky anxiety. She knew she should really be looking for her physical self - to reunite with it, but she honestly wasn’t too keen on the idea. Her body had been in pain last time she spent time in it and quite frankly, she wasn’t looking forward to experiencing that again. Still… there was a reason she needed to be back there. Yeah… she really should get back now. After all, what if something was happening to her body? Something terrible? Or worse… what if something was happening to _Him_?_ _

__The urgency of that thought must’ve triggered some sort of reaction, because at that very moment she sensed something emerging from the depths of her awareness. It was approaching at a mind numbing speed and… Oh god!_ _

__A shriek of agony shot from deep within her to fly from her mouth with incredible volume. Without realizing she’d initiated it, her mind had indeed found her body and had joined with it at what couldn’t have been a worse time. The tearing pain ripping through her threatened to separate her very soul from her body, she was sure. It was the lecture hall all over again, but this time she was thrust into agony with no preamble. John! His name tore through her throat loud enough to permeate the stratosphere._ _

__She’d been dropped into a burning vat of lava and left to swim in it. Somewhere in the very back of her mind she realized no one could survive that. And neither would she._ _


	17. The Torment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I’m on a patio of a lovely pub near where I live reading this chapter for the last time before I post it, and I bloody got teary. For god’s sake. Mind you, I’ve had a couple of beers now, so it’s likely that and PMS are playing a large part, but still…
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

### The Restoration : Chapter 17 - The Torment

He’d put on a burst of speed once he’d decided on his destination, and despite taxing even his impressive physical capacity for speed, he pushed himself harder. As soon as he reached the library he felt the pain in his chest and stomach recede slightly. There was no question now that he was in the right place. Rose was closer now.

The subbasement of the library was quiet, with only a few students strewn about in various carrels littered around the narrowly spaced, floor to ceiling shelves of books. Searching around the perimeter of the entire floor, he kept his eyes peeled for anything anomalous that might direct him to Rose. It was during his second tour of the basement it occurred to him that maybe the book had more to say by now.

Reaching in the back pocket of his jeans he pulled it out and quickly flipped to the appropriate page. Oh, yes! He could just _kiss_ future him! And Rose, of course. But that sort of went without saying right now. Or… anytime, really.

 

_There is not much I recall from that horrid time, and because of the rules surrounding my telling of this story, I am bound to only lay out the most basic of details about these events. I am even unable to write whether I made it out of this nightmare in one piece. What I_ am _able to do, however, is share that my lover did not give up on me. He looked in every dark room and searched every dark corner. He explored every crack and crevice in an effort to save me from my torment._

 

Pain lanced through him with the reminder of what agony she must be experiencing. Staring at the words, he tried to make sense of them. He knew now, of course, why the book had been written with such vague references. Future him and Rose couldn’t risk creating a paradox. The hints had to be broad enough that they required interpretation, otherwise he was essentially crossing his own time stream and changing it… something that would be very very not good.

Okay fine. So what the hell was he trying to tell himself? _Every dark room and every dark corner_. Jumping up, he dashed in the direction of what he’d assumed earlier was a storage closet. A closet would be about the darkest room in the place at the moment.

Skidding to a stop in front of the door, he turned and pulled the handle only to find it securely locked. Absently patting the pockets of his jeans (really… what had possessed him to wear jeans?) he found them empty. Of course they were empty. The suit that held his sonic was safely tucked away in the closet of his room back at the house where he’d squirreled it away immediately after becoming John. Fan-bloody-tastic.

Huffing, he studied the lock. Hmmm. Looking around him for anything useful that might aid in his break and enter, he spied a series of old metal filing cabinets lined against a back wall. Racing toward them, he threw one of the drawers open to find it empty save for a few hanging file folders. Aha! That just might do it!

Plucking one out, he pulled the thin metal hanger through the cardboard from one side and discarded the rest on the floor. Racing back to the door, he worked the end of the narrow strip into the lock and carefully shifted it inside the body of the lock to release the mechanism. A satisfying ‘click’ met his sensitive ears and a triumphant hoot flew from him.

Oops. Darting a look around, he was quite relieved to find no one was in his general vicinity. It wouldn’t do to have inquisitive students following him.

Standing, he turned the handle and pulled the door open. The large storage space that met him was ancient and musty and obviously rarely used. Ahead of him were stacks of old wooden chairs and beside those a ladder and a few boxes stood sporting layers of dust that must have been years old. Leaving the door open a crack to let some light in, he stepped inside further to more closely examine the walls. The book had suggested looking for crevices and cracks. Running his hands along the surface of the wall on his right he felt for any anomalies. If his guess was correct, and his guesses usually were…

Aha! Under his sensitive fingertips he found the even vertical crack of a concealed door. Running his fingers along the seal he found the latch and popped it open. Unfortunately, a loud creak heralded his triumph making the Doctor cringe. If someone was closeby on the other side they’d surely have heard it.

Standing stock still, he waited and listened. Nothing. Letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, he peeked around the partially opened door and took in what lay behind it. It was a narrow, uneven, dirt floored tunnel that had likely been carved out years ago. It wasn’t even high enough for him to stand in, which meant it was likely built by a shorter race of humans or, more likely, aliens to this planet. The tunnel was dark, but up ahead and presumably around the corner, there was a light source of some kind. His destination.

Unwilling to wait a moment longer, he popped through the low door and began inching his way through the tunnel. The tug on his chest and stomach had receded significantly since he’d entered the library, but here they were almost non-existent. He was very close to her now, which was more than relieving.

Coming up to a bend in the tunnel, he stopped just before it and listened. In the distance he swore he could hear the hum of a power source, but that was it. Chancing a look, he peeked around the corner to discover a blue light shining from up ahead but the only thing he could make out beyond was a bank of complex machinery. 

That’s where she was. It had to be. Every single cell he was made up of wanted nothing more than to barrel in there. He needed to make sure she was alright. To hold her against him, never to let her go. His good judgement, however, insisted he tread carefully. Whatever it was that was commanding these nanites was very likely in there with her and he’d be of no help at all if all he did was get caught.

Moving around the corner, he approached the room slowly, only to discover the archway was actually an open hatch. This was a ship. Gods. How long had it been there? At least as long as the library had been, clearly, and probably long before that. Forcing himself to take measured steps, he continued his approach. The whir and hum of machinery became louder as he got nearer, but another sound met his ears as well. What was it? Inching closer to the open archway, the noise, while still muffled, became clearer and turned into a number of distinct sounds.

Rassilon. It was whimpering. Crying. Whispers. Murmurs. Half hearted shouts. Oh gods… Rose.

His mind instantly clouded with primal instinct. Protect her. The potent Time Lord equivalent of adrenaline shot through him further distancing him from rational thought. Something was harming his bondmate. HIS bondmate.

“ROSE!” he called, his fear for her taking over despite a tiny part of him that was attempting to stop him from calling attention to himself.

Dashing forward he burst into the cavernous room only to stop dead in his tracks. He was not prepared for the sight that met him. Nothing could’ve prepared him, he was sure. Before him were rows upon rows of vertical enclosed ‘beds’, each housing a human connected to wires and tubes. It was like the cat nuns all over again. Memories of those poor humans, trapped and covered in open sores and seeping wounds pushed into his mind and he swallowed thickly. There had to be hundreds of them here… maybe even a thousand or more, all naked and restrained, and Rose was among them.

It took all his strength not to call out for her again. His hearts were pounding in his throat. Where was he going to start? Taking off at a clip, he headed down the closest row of prisoners, desperately searching each tubal bed for his unwitting bondmate. The humans encased in these cubicles were in various stages of muscle atrophy and all looked drawn and thin. They were all firmly strapped inside their transparent cells, their arms, legs and heads all held motionless by thick metal bands. All had liquids trickling into their veins via numerous intravenous sites. Some appeared to be unconscious but a number were awake and many called to him weakly as he passed, but he couldn’t stop. The other half of his soul was here somewhere and he had to find her first.

Reaching the end of the first row, he was about to dash down the next one when he caught sight of a form sitting at a bank of machinery. Ducking back to hide himself from view, the Doctor slowly peeked around the corner. The individual at the terminal was a short-statured, heavy set, bipedal specimen. It’s skin was definitely green-hued, though it lacked luster. What the hell was it? As he stood trying to work out it’s species, it occurred to him that the thing was awfully still. Too still.

Deciding to chance it, he crept around the corner to get a better look. Another minute passed with no movement. Nope. This guy was definitely not going to be apprehending him anytime soon. Moving closer, the Doctor dipped in to check out the front of the creature.

“What?!” he heard himself say aloud. It was a Tamrani. A very dead Tamrani. But that was impossible! The Tamrani were barred from leaving their solar system ages ago. Surely they wouldn’t chance a clash with the Judoon on purpose unless...

Oh. Ohhhhhh. Suddenly it all made sense. The ship… the disappearances… it all made complete sense. Terrible, horrific sense. These humans were being kept alive for a purpose… they were fresh food.

But… wait. Taking a purposeful deep sniff of the air, the Doctor smacked his tongue on his palate. Hmmmm. Hints of methane but not nearly enough to sustain the Tamrani. So this fella likely wasn’t the only corpse around here. Any friends he’d come with would now be in a similar state. But how long had the Tamrani been here on earth? Judging by the aged state of the body before him, it had probably lived most of its lifespan before dying of methane starvation. That meant these Tamrani had probably been here for, oh… a hundred and fifty-odd years or so before they finally succumbed to the depletion of their ships methane stores. And judging by the state of composition of the corpse, that had been about two years ago. 

Looking around him, he considered the sickening implications of that fact. If the Tamrani had all passed away about two years ago, there was a very real possibility that at least some of these humans had been here, existing as _unneeded_ food stores, since that time. Barely alive but not allowed to die. The thought sickened him.

The Tamrani were a conquering race who had been forbidden by the Shadow Proclamation to venture beyond their solar system. Apparently they had decided to ignore the decree and had sent a scouting party to search for a new victim planet. They must’ve tired of their own food sources in the Bac:kra system and were looking for a new populated planet to harvest from. But why earth? It couldn’t be a worse choice for the Tamrani, really. The atmosphere was far too oxygen rich, for one. There was no way they’d last five minutes outside their ship. Then of course, there was the issue of the sunlight. Tamrani inhabited only planets that had a permanent dark side.

Then there was the sheer size of this ship. There had to be a thousand beds in here. Even if they’d anticipated being stuck on earth for hundreds of years, there was no reason they’d need so many containers.

Another realization dawned. Ohhhh. They hadn’t been here to simply check out the planet as a possible new home base, had they? No. That wasn’t the case at all. Smacking his forehead as punishment for his delayed comprehension, he began to pace. No. They had planned to literally _harvest_ humans. To collect a great number of them and then transport them back to their home world to try out as an interesting new cuisine. Maybe they were even planning to breed them. It was the most logical reason for all these storage units.

But then there was the question of the memory repression. The Tamrani consumed _meat_ , not memories. Why would they need to bother wiping the memories of their livestock? What possible purpose could be served by invading the minds of their victims?

Then the answer hit him squarely between the eyes. The nanites. Of course! He was about to let his mind fully process the idea, when he picked a very clear voice out of the din of moans and whimpers surrounding him. “John.”

It was faint. And far away. But it was her. Gods!

Jumping back from the Tamrani corpse he spun in place and took off running. With renewed purpose, the Doctor flew down one of the long row of human storage units to search each for Rose.

Turning into yet another long row of containers he heard her again. Closer this time. “John.” She was weak and hoarse, but her voice was unmistakable.

Slowing a bit, he desperately searched each passing bed for her. She was so close. “John!” Rose’s voice cried out with more energy from just up ahead. Running to the unit he’d heard her call him from, he stopped dead.

“Oh Gods! Rose!” he all but shouted. His fingers quickly found the latch of the the container she was held in and threw the lid open forcefully. His hands instantly found her face and his thumbs stroked her skin, desperate to touch her.

“John,” she repeated, tears streaking down her cheeks. She looked wretched. Her face and chest were tear stained and she looked beyond exhausted. Bruises decorated her arms around where tubes entered her fair skin and it was clear she’d been pulling against her restraints, as the skin around her wrists and ankles was chafed and bleeding in some places.

“I’m here, Rose. I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her searching the cuffs for a way to remove them.

“Don’t leave me,” she prayed out loud, her eyes looking almost desperate.

“Never. I’m never leaving you, Rose,” he promised, rising to look her directly in the eye. “I promise you with every single beat of my hearts.”

If she noticed unedited reference to his twin cardiovascular system, she didn’t comment. “It hurt so much…” she admitted, more tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

“I know, love. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he breathed as a lump of guilt and shame formed in his throat. As if the abuse she’d suffered at the mercy of the nanites wouldn’t have been bad enough, she’d suffered beyond what any living being should’ve because of him. Because of the bond.

Finding the clips on the inside of the restraints, he quickly undid the one encircling Rose’s right hand. That done, he reached for the one on the left…

“John!” Rose yelled, making him look up. Her eyes were wide with fear. “Look out!” she shouted, focused on something behind him.

Twirling around where he stood, he found a dazzling thick column of glittery mist bearing down on him. Ducking, he managed to dodge the solid cloud of nanites before it managed to make contact with him. Taking off at a run, he made it to the end of the aisle of humans and was about to duck around and into the next row when a second, dense fog of nanites blocked his progress. Spinning around, he made to backtrack, but was suddenly face to, er… face… with the first shimmering cloud.

“Alright… now… I know what this looks like,” he started, hoping maybe the Tamrani had programmed a verbal/audio interface with their little robot army, “but I’m not trying to steal your master’s food,” he said, holding his hands up. “Or… weeeelll, technically I suppose I _was_ trying to steal it. A bit. But in fairness, this planet is protected by statute 46.8987b of the Shadow Proclamation, and I’m sure your masters wouldn’t have been here if they’d, you know… read that bit. But seeing as they probably didn’t, I’m willing to overlook this infraction if you all just power down and stop the harvesting of these humans. Hmmm? What do you say?” he said, putting on his most winning smile.

Before he could even blink, a spiraling branch of nanites shot from the larger column to invade his nostrils and mouth to push painfully up into his skull. Unable to breathe, the Doctor felt himself instinctively thrash about in an effort to dislodge the intruders, but once again his mind knew that resistance was futile. He was going to be encased in one of these cages just like Rose and neither of them were going to get out of here.

Images of Rose’s tear stained cheeks and her shining eyes played for him as his own eyes slid closed. He’d failed her. She trusted him to take care of her and now she was going to waste away down here. And now he’d never get the chance to tell her the truth. That he loved her with both of his hearts.


	18. The Reverse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two more chapters after this, folks! Overall, I think my muse has generally sort of behaved herself, compared to other fics in which body parts were forcibly removed (though I suppose if THAT'S my compass for behaviour, that says something right there!). That said, this chapter isn't without my muse's influence. 
> 
> BTW - Thank-you, thank-you, my dearest ‘Neenster’ (who happens to be my brilliant sister) for listening to my long drawn out explanation of this story so she could offer me her always sage advice on this chapter. I could bloody KISS her (but I won’t, cause that would be too much touchy human contact. She understands that though and would appreciate the sentiment).

### The Restoration : Chapter 18 - The Reverse

The cool mid-morning air felt good in Jack’s lungs as he slowly made his way home from Rose’s flat. He’d woken to find himself alone in Rose’s apartment about fifteen minutes ago and had decided he should maybe make himself scarce. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten there in the first place, but it must’ve been one hell of a party if he didn’t even remember it.

Pressing himself, he worked to figure out what his last memory of last night was. The last thing he remembered was walking home from the pub. He’d had a few drinks before deciding to head back to his flat, but he was sure he hadn’t had that many. Not enough to explain why he couldn’t remember anything after his walk. The only thing he could come up with was that someone had slipped something in his drink, which really sucked, cause now his head ached on a colossal scale and he didn’t even have fantastic memories of a decent party to show for it. On top of that, he must’ve ended up knocking on Rose’s door at god knows what hour, probably looking pissed out of his tree. Fantastic. As if her boyfriend didn’t dislike him enough already. Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair. Oh well. Hopefully it gave the skinny (and honestly, _hot_ ) bloke another good reason to hang on to her, cause if he didn’t there would definitely be someone else willing to put in the effort. Even he would consider committing himself to something a bit more long term if she was interested. She was a catch.

The streets were pretty quiet at the moment, with most people already in class. He’d managed to sleep through his first one and frankly, he didn’t think he’d have been able to manage getting through it anyway even if he hadn’t. He was _so tired_. All he wanted to do was crawl in his bed and sleep for a week.

He was just coming up on the town hall when he spotted someone ripping down the front steps of the building to run at full throttle down the street in the opposite direction. What the hell? Was that _John_?

Jack watched for a moment as John put more distance between them. He should go after him. John had been going on about how there were people going missing and all that… maybe he’d found out something. _Or worse_ , his brain supplied, _maybe something’s happened to Rose._

That was all the impetus he needed. Breaking into a run himself, he took off as fast as he could after Rose’s astronomer.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

The first thing he became aware of was a tightness around his head. Like he was wearing a Pobas Headdress and had forgotten to request a larger size more appropriate for humanoids. That awareness was swiftly replaced with another more startling one. He couldn’t move. Not his head, his hands or his feet.

His eyes shot open and his hearts drained of hope. He was encased in a storage unit like the one he’d found Rose in, and he was as naked as she had been. Tubes snaked out of inflamed holes in his arms and there was even a thick cannula piercing one of his stomachs. Remorse squeezed through him. He was as stuck as she was now and he was certainly no help to her all trussed up this way. He needed to think of a way to get out of here. But how?

Testing the bonds with all his strength, he found them immoveable and more than sufficient enough to hold even a Time Lord. He sighed. Well _that_ wasn’t any help to him. Bloody hell!

Somewhere in the distance he was convinced he heard Rose’s voice calling him. “ROSE!” he yelled back through the casing of his enclosure. She wouldn't hear him, he was sure. She was surely a good distance away and the only reason he could hear her was because of his superior auditory sense. She had no idea he was anywhere near her or even he was alive. It tore at his hearts. She would be terrified for him, just as he was for her. 

Gods… why hadn’t he bloody _listened_ to her when she tried to warn him about her wariness about this town? She’d tried to tell him, but he’d been too bloody self-centred to imagine she might have insight into the goings on here. In his defense, she hadn’t had any real solid information about it, but he’d always believed in intuition. It had saved his arse more times than he could count. What made his any better than hers? Nothing. That’s what. And now she was paying the price for his arrogance.

Closing his eyes, he made himself a vow. If they got out of this… no. _When_ they got out of this… he was first going to apologize profusely to her and then he was gonna snog her senseless. Fuck his bloody self imposed ‘rules’. He wasn’t going to waste another moment second guessing the ‘rightness’ of his feelings for her. _He loved her._

The impulsive mental admission made him pop his eyes open. A thick emotional lump formed in his throat. He loved her. With both of his ancient hearts. Of course, he’d not been very good at convincing himself otherwise all along, but he’d come up with so very many reasons why admitting to Rose Tyler that he loved her would be a very bad thing. He still wasn’t sure he was wrong about that, but he was less and less convinced he shouldn’t do it anyway. His hearts were already hers to break… she just didn’t know it. Well, maybe he needed to change that. Take a chance. If he was lucky enough that she didn’t hate him for what had happened, maybe she might concede to having more with him. A few decades of happiness surely would be worth the heartache after she was gone.

Still… that admission wasn’t going to mean anything if he didn’t get them out of this prison. And damn it, he was going to do just that. He and Rose hadn’t made it this far for them to end this way. There had to be a way.

His head was immobile, but he rolled his eyes up to look as much as he could at the door of his enclosure. It was lined with some sort of airtight polymer, which made sense given that humans wouldn’t last long exposed to the methane environment the Tamrani normally lived in. Just behind the seal of the door there were vents and a series of holes that the tubes he was attached to entered the enclosure from. So there must be tanks above somewhere that stored the nutrients and oxygen needed to keep the humans alive. So… what would happen if he purposefully pulled them out? The nanites would return to repair them. Hmmm. He doubted it would really help, but it certainly couldn’t _hurt_ to try for another audience with his miniature captors.

Unable to come up with a better plan, he closed his eyes in concentration and did his best to angle his hand toward his leg. There was an intravenous site not far from where his hand was restrained. If he could reach it…

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a familiar voice chimed.

Eyes flying open, the Doctor was startled to find a winded Jack Harkness standing before him. “Jack? How did you…”

Jack’s hands found the latch of the the enclosure and threw it open. “I saw you coming out of the town hall and figured I’d better follow. I couldn’t very well let you try to save the world all by yourself, now could I? Besides - I figured by the speed you were running at that Rose was in trouble, and despite your willowy good looks, you’re not the most buff of guys I’ve come across… and I’ve come across a good few in my time,” he grinned. “I figured you might need some muscle behind you. Now that I see you like this, though,” he said, dragging an appreciative look down the Doctor’s naked front, “I can promise I’ve got a _lot_ of muscle I can put behind you,” he leered, waggling his eyebrows.

“Jack…” the Doctor warned.

“Don’t worry, John. I promise to behave myself. For now. Still… can’t have you distracting me while I’m trying to rescue you,” he grinned, removing his jacket to tie backward around the Doctor’s slim waist.

The Doctor sighed. As much as Jack drove him mad sometimes, he couldn’t help but admit he was actually happy to see him. “Yeah, well use some of that muscle you’re bragging about and get me out of here, will you? We’ve got to find Rose,” he advised his cheeky companion.

“Yes, sir!” Jack grinned before removing one of the wrist restraints. Leaving the Doctor to release the other and pull out some of the tubes, Jack removed the head brace. He’d knelt to undo one of the straps encasing his ankles when the Doctor saw the column of nanites approaching from down the aisle.

“Jack! Quickly!” he instructed. Jack looked up and released a surprised gasp before redoubling his efforts. “JACK!”

The last clasp came undone just in time for the Doctor to jump clear over Jack’s crouched form into a roll that came to a stop just before hitting one of the storage beds opposite his. Jack took the opportunity to climb to his feet to offer the Doctor a hand up before they both took off at a run away from the approaching fog of glittering robots.

“What the fuck is that?!” Jack puffed as they ran around the end of the aisle.

“Nanites. And we have to stop them,” the Doctor advised him as they sprinted down the length of the hall at the end of the aisle. “We need to split up, Jack. I need you to find Rose and get her out of here while I find the nanite control centre,” he directed. “Hopefully they’ll be more interested in me when they realize what I’m up to and they’ll leave you alone.”

“What’re you gonna do?” Jack asked as the Doctor ducked into a nearby aisle.

“Get their attention!” the Doctor called back over his shoulder, quite aware he’d managed to get _Jack’s_ full attention by giving him an eye full of his bare bottom as he continued his run down the aisle.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

“John!” Rose called again, for what felt like the thousandth time. Her voice was hoarse, but she couldn’t give up. He was here somewhere. The fog had taken him… she knew it. She hadn’t seen it directly, but she’d seen it chase after him and had heard him talking before he screamed out and it got quiet.

That had been forever ago. At least it felt that way. In reality it had probably only been an hour, and she’d spent most of it calling for him and yelling at their captors to let him go.

She was about to shout for him again when she heard a commotion somewhere outside her tiny cell. “JOHN!” she tried again, louder this time. With her head restrained she couldn’t see anything outside of what was immediately in front of her ‘bed’, but she could still hear someone shouting. 

“OI! THIS WAY!” a tenor voice shouted. Oh my god… it was John. What was he doing?!

Suddenly a man jumped into her view, making her yelp. “Hello, beautiful,” he said brightly, his sky blue eyes and beaming smile greeting her.

“Jack?!” she said incredulously. “What… how?!”

“I followed John. But we’ve got to get out of here,” he informed her. “He’s distracting that thing right now, but I’m sure we don’t have long,” he said, busily undoing her restraints.

“What?! But it’ll catch him again!” she said, confounded by the idea. “How will that help?”

“What do you mean? He’s distracting it so you can escape,” Jack informed her like she’d just asked the most ridiculous question ever posed.

“Well, I’m not leavin’,” she stated as he undid the last clasp. “Not without him,” she informed him. There was no way in the universe she was gonna let John get any further away from her than he was right now. It was non-negotiable.

Jack leveled a serious look at her while removing his shirt, replying, “Look… I’ll get him out of here, but he wants you safe, okay? So let’s get you out of here and I’ll handle this,” he directed, pulling his t-shirt over her head to cover her naked form.

“No. No way. We’re in this together. All of us,” she said poking a finger at his now bare chest. “Now come on… we’ve got to help him!” she insisted, moving purposefully and quickly toward the sound of John’s shouting voice.

“Oh, for…” she heard Jack murmur as he followed behind her. He sounded exasperated, but… too bad. There was no way she was leaving John at the mercy of this fog creature. The very idea of him being harmed anymore made her blood boil. That thing was _not_ going to hurt him again.

They made their way down the aisle, closer to John’s voice which was still shouting. “That’s right. Oh, yes! Look where I am!” he said, sounding smug. “Not too keen on getting close this time, are you? What if my finger accidentally slipped?” he taunted.

Reaching the corner, Rose peeked her head around to get a look. There, in front of a bank of machinery, stood John, his eyes ablaze. His body was taught and his finger was poised to punch what looked like a button on a keyboard.

Rose was about to dart out to join him when Jack grabbed her arm. “No!” he whispered. “If it realizes we’re watching it’ll use us against him,” he warned.

He was right, of course, but how could she just stand here and watch him risk his life?

“You know… I have to admit,” John said, seemingly addressing the glittering cloud before him, “it took me a bit to sort out what would motivate the Tamrani to erase people’s memories. Your masters weren’t interested in memory harvesting. So why would they bother altering the minds of their victims?” he pondered aloud, looking skyward.

“Then it hit me. Nanites are standard issue on most developed species space vessels, but you’re hardly standard issue nanites, are you? Noooo. The Tamrani engineered you with something specific in mind. They’d been planning to farm the humans above without ever having to leave the protection of their ship! Oh yes. Very clever. They’d engineered you lot to do their dirty work for them… programming each and every one of you little robots to act as a unit and abduct humans and then transport them here so they wouldn’t have to venture topside,” John worked out aloud. But… nanites? This was a cloud of little robots?

“But you couldn’t do that without energy, could you?” John continued. “In order for you all to move freely through the town and stay coordinated and cohesive, you would require a field of negatively polarized energy to move in. And to create one, you’d need a plentiful and appropriate energy source you’d be capable of gathering yourselves, am I right?” John challenged.

Before him the cloud pulsed and inched forward threateningly.

“Uh, uh, uh! Careful now,” John warned, dipping his finger even closer to the key below it. The group of robots backed off immediately as a unit. “Too right,” he nodded. “Anyhow… what was I saying? Oh yes. Energy. You needed energy to create a low level energy field. But not just any energy would do, would it? Nope. Neuronal energy. Energy stored within the memory cells of sentient species. THAT’S what you needed. And not just ANY neuronal energy. There’s no stronger or longer lasting neuronal energy than that used to store memories, and you all make perfect little storage units for such energy, am I right?” he asked. “Of _course_ I’m right. I’m always right,” he smiled cheekily at the rolling mist before him. 

“Now… even though I’m clearly not a fan of your methods, I can hardly fault you for that entirely. Your Masters are the ones who programmed you after all. So I promised myself I’d give you a chance to put a halt to this entire ‘harvesting’ business,” John announced. “And the _reason_ I’m giving you this chance is because I believe you very well might be sentient to a degree and you deserve a chance to change your behaviour. So here goes,” he said taking a deep breath.

“My guess is that your Masters hadn’t taken into account that the atmosphere surrounding this planet is nitrogen rich, so instead of landing here, the ship’s vulnerable shields failed and it crashed. The ship was damaged and your Masters got stuck here. They used their technology to last as long as they could on earth but it was only a matter of time before their methane based atmosphere ran out. And now… well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your Masters have bit the biscuit. They’ve moved on to the great beyond. They’ve met their maker. They’re pining for the fiords,” John emphasized. “What I’m trying to say is that they’re dead. They do NOT. NEED. ANY. MORE. FOOD,” he over articulated. “And you lot - you all just went on automatic pilot after they died, harvesting at full capacity because they didn’t bother turning you off before they met their demise, am I right?” he posited aloud.

“Rose,” Jack’s voice cut urgently into her observation of John’s monologue.

Turning to see what he wanted, she saw the object of his concern with her own eyes. Behind them, floating down the aisle toward them was another column of nanites. “Shit!” she cursed, backing up into plain view of John and the larger cloud of nanites. Darting a look in John’s direction, she saw pure alarm on his face.

“Stay away from them,” John warned the cloud approaching them. When it didn’t slow, he added, “I’m warning you. I don’t want to harm you, but I will. Now back away from them!”

The sparkling cloud continued its forward trajectory with no pause. 

“Right. Well, enough chat,” he announced. “I’m sorry to have to do this, but now you’ve really left me no choice.”

With that, both swirling masses of nanites flew at the humans in the room. In moments Rose’s body was invaded… her nose and mouth filled with robots obstructing her breath and invading her body. Beside her she felt Jack’s body writhe in panic.

Then it hit. A white hot pulse of bright light filled her mind, making her convulse. Raw power seemed to fill her every synapse, making her head feel as if it might explode with the sheer force of it. There was no pain in it. Not yet. Just intense pressure. But she could feel it coming. Building. _**I create myself,**_ an ominous dual toned voice vibrated through her skull even as the encroaching pain began to make itself known, pinching at her extremities and creeping in to slowly envelop her body as if she was being stung over and over by large wasps. She tried to scream, but it seemed she no longer had control over any of her motor functions.

And that’s when it rolled over her. An all encompassing wave of pain. She imagined it was what she might feel like if she was giving birth to herself. Pure agony tore through her, and she could feel her insides melting even as her consciousness began to fade.

_But I never told him…_

It was her last thought before the world disappeared.


	19. The Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, my dearest darling readers! This is the penultimate chapter. Only one more to go after this and the story will be concluded. 
> 
> I LOVED writing this chapter. Nothing makes me happier than meaty Doctor/Rose interactions, and this chapter made me VERY happy. This chapter made me happy for another reason as well ... there is a line in this chapter that I squeed over when I wrote it. For those of you familiar with classic Doctor Who, I hope you’ll appreciate the reference. It’s one of those once in a lifetime word manipulations that will go down in the annals of my personal literary triumphs. 
> 
> Anyway, enough author-y nerdtastic self congratualtions. On to the story!

### The Restoration : Chapter 19 - The Memories

Rose woke to the cool fabric of her pillowcase beneath her cheek and she drew in a contented breath, letting it out in a yawn. She felt ridiculously relaxed, like she’d been sleeping for days.

Sighing, she let her mind drift to her dream. It had started out as the worst nightmare she’d ever had but the way it ended… it was incredible. It had started out with her and the Doctor landing in this town… wait.

Popping her eyes open, she stared up at the puffy clouds floating by in the blue sky ceiling of her room in the TARDIS. Not in her… her flat. Oh, god. Her flat. Rose Tyler. History major. Memories of her life as a university student surged through her mind. Oh my god. It had been real. The whole thing. But… the Doctor. She and… she and the Doctor…

“Rose?” a concerned voice greeted her. The Doctor’s face slid into view above her.

“Doctor?” she rasped, her voice gravelly.

“Oh gods… you’re alright,” he breathed in relief, leaning over her, pressing a kiss onto her forehead.

“Doctor…what… ” she tried, unsure what to say.

“You’re safe now, Rose. You’re gonna be alright,” he reassured her, stroking her cheek.

Alarm rose within her. “What happened to me?” she croaked, mentally searching her body for any clue. She felt fine. Fantastic, even. Looking up into the Doctor’s eyes, she took in his worry lined features. He looked exhausted.

“It was back in the ship, Rose. I was trying to reason with the nanites, but then they attacked you and Jack…”

Fear darted through her making her sit up. “Jack! Where is he?” A memory of Jack writhing beside her in agony suddenly bloomed in her mind.

“He’s fine. He recovered quickly. They all did,” he assured her.

“They?”

“The humans. All of them,” he said, his lips quirking up. “We did it, Rose. We saved them,” he smiled openly now.

A palpable relief swept through her. Then something he said hit her. “Wait… you said they all recovered quickly… how long have I been sleeping?” she asked.

The Doctor sat up a bit straighter and pulled his hand up to tug lightly on his ear. Sighing, he answered, “Three days.”

Three days? She’d been unconscious for three whole days? No wonder he looked so tired. He must’ve been by her side the whole time. “Oh, Doctor… I’m sorry…” she said, reaching up to touch his cheek. He immediately leaned into her touch and closed his eyes.

“I was so worried, Rose,” he admitted. “I thought… when you didn’t wake up… everyone else’s bodies had absorbed the energy, but you…

“But… are _you_ alright?” she interrupted him urgently, searching his weary eyes. “The nanites… did they hurt you too?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. They didn’t hurt me. But Rose… it wasn’t the nanites that did this to you. Well, not really. It was what I did to stop them,” he said, looking down to study the pink sheets covering her. “For everyone else, their mind merely absorbed it and their memories… their lives were restored. But what I did… you reacted differently,” he finished.

“What? What did you do?” she asked.

“I reversed the polarity of the neuron flow,” he said seriously before gazing off in memory. “It was actually brilliant, Rose. You should’ve seen it!” he said with near reverence. “The nanites released all the neuronal energy they had stored. There were millions and millions of tiny spots of light everywhere… it was truly beautiful. But you… they… something happened to you, Rose,” he said, his smile waning. “The neuronal energy was naturally attracted to the drained cells in the other human’s brains, and after rejuvenating them, any excess was re-released into the air. But your cells… they just kept attracting more and more neuronal energy… more than you could possibly have used. It kept building and building. The energy… it enveloped you. It… it shone _through_ you,” he said, lost in the vision. “I tried to stop it… I tried to go inside your mind…” he fretted.

Pain for him darted through her. He’d been beside himself with worry… she knew she would’ve been had their positions been reversed.

“I tried to contain it,” he continued. “I even tried to pull some of it from you, but you… you…” he trailed off, looking distinctly nervous.

“What?”

“You pushed me out, Rose. Your mind… your impossible mind threw mine aside like it was nothing. I had no choice… I had to just… just _watch_ as you fought for your life,” he explained, his eyes glistening. Rose’s heart broke for him. To have to just stand by… helpless to save the person you… you…

“When the energy finally dulled, I carried you back to the TARDIS. Weeeellll, Jack sort of helped. When I had to open the TARDIS doors he took you for a minute,” he said, his soft smile filling her vision.  
“That was three days ago,” he summarized.

Once again she took stock of her body. As far as she could tell, she was in tip top shape. She’d literally never felt better. But after what the Doctor had described… shouldn’t she feel poorly? “But if I was in such rough shape a couple of days ago… why do I feel so fantastic? I mean… I feel great,” she asked in wonder.

The Doctor scratched the back of his neck self consciously then.

“What?” she pressed.

“Weeeellll… you _are_ great… you’re better than great, really,” he trailed off.

“What do you mean?” she asked, confusion and suspicion filling her. He was keeping something from her. She could always tell.

“I mean… your… your cellular structure has been changed, Rose.” he shared. “What I mean is… when the positively polarized neuronal energy entered you… I think you used it to change yourself. Weellll… I say _you_ used it, but I suppose… that is to say… you still have residual vortex energy in you from the Game Station. It was that power that changed you,” he said seriously, studying her for a reaction. She wished she could give him one. She just… she still didn’t understand. 

"Rose…” he paused seemingly gathering himself to impart some disturbing information. “What I’m saying is… it was Bad Wolf. Bad Wolf is still living in you. It harnessed the neuronal energy and amplified it, mutating it for it’s own purposes. And now… well, you’re a lot more like me. ” he finished, his gaze intense.

Rose stopped short. A haunting memory filled her mind. _’I create myself.’_ The echoing all consuming voice she’d heard… the Bad Wolf. Fear filled her. Training her eyes on the man before her, she rallied her courage. “So… what does that mean?”

“It means that you’re going to be around for a very long time, Rose.” He paused, seemingly considering his next words carefully, “It means that… if you still want to… you can really stay with me,” he said, his expression the very picture of vulnerability. "It wouldn’t be forever. Not really. But it would be as close to forever as two humanoids could get,” he offered, his entire body tense and entreating.

Rose felt a lump of emotion form in her throat. “You’d still want that? With me?” she asked, still not sure she was believing what she was hearing.

“Rose… I don’t deserve it, but I do. More than anything,” he admitted, his eyes open and honest. Rose was sure her heart stuttered with his admission. He wanted her to be with him. _But… but surely not like you dare to hope,_ the devil on her shoulder pointed out. That was true. They weren’t Rose and John anymore, were they? They were back to being Rose and the Doctor. The stuff of legends, not the stuff of romance. She couldn’t very well just expect them to pick up where Uni Rose and John left off, could she? 

Still… that didn’t matter, she reminded herself. She was never gonna leave him. Her decision was made long ago and letting him go was never an option in her mind. And if… if for some reason Bad Wolf had managed to extend her life, it didn’t change anything. The only thing that had changed was the length of her forever. The idea that she’d get to stay with him, spending hundreds of years travelling on this magnificent ship, keeping him company for as long as he needed her… it was brilliant. Even if they never ever ended up as close as Rose and John had become, it was still fantastic. And now he’d never have to be alone. 

“But Rose,” the Doctor said, interrupting her thoughts, "I have to tell you something before you answer. And if you… “ he paused, “...if you want to go home after I tell you this, I’ll understand. I’ll take you right back and you’ll never have to see me again,” he promised.

“Doctor,” she was about to argue.

“No… hear me out,” he said, touching her arm to gently silence her. She didn’t want him even considering that she might ever leave him. Nothing he could ever do would convince her she should. Still, she let him continue. It was rare that he ever opened up, and he clearly felt he needed her to know something. Clearing his throat he continued. “When I was John… when I met you in the library, I knew there was something special about you. You were smart, funny, and you seemed to have excellent taste in men,” he grinned.

Rose laughed out loud at this, lightly smacking his arm.

“Anyway, I… John… he cared about you. More than that. And when we… that is, that first night at my place, when you and I… you know…” he said, gesturing between them, “something happened.”

Rose ducked her head in a heated blush, “I know. I was there,” she grinned.

He smiled at that. “Well, yes… _that_ happened too, but what I mean is… something happened between us,” he said his face becoming serious. “When we… when we _made love_ , Rose, it initiated a link… a bond… between us. It’s something my people did to tie themselves biologically to one another. It was a form of commitment between two people who had decided to spend their lives together,” he explained.

Rose’s breath hitched. Was he saying…

“But a bond between a human and a Time Lord… it just doesn’t happen. It’s dangerous. Even life threatening to a human, Rose. I could’ve… it could’ve…” he stammered, clearly choked with guilt.

“Doctor,” she soothed, reaching out to take him in her arms. He leaned in gratefully, his arms wrapping around her and his nose nestling into the crook of her neck. It was like he needed the reassurance that she was really alright. Holding him even tighter she stroked his hair. “I’m okay, yeah? I’m fine,” she assured him.

Nodding, he pulled back but kept his eyes trained on the bed before him. “Anyhow,” he said, gathering himself to continue after a few moments, “the first time had only initiated a bond. It takes both partners to complete it. Normally humans don’t have the capacity for the kind of telepathy needed to reciprocate, but you…” he said, his eyes full of reverence for a moment before his expression morphed into one of astonished realization, “Rassilon, Rose! It was Bad Wolf! It had to have been. She helped you complete the bond with me. She saved you!” he said in wonder studying her.

“Bad Wolf? But… but I don’t remember that,” she said, trying to cast her mind back.

“Ah, but you remember the lights? The lightheadedness when we, er… had sex?” he said. “That was Bad Wolf! She was priming you. Us.” Suddenly the Doctor stood and smacked his forehead solidly. “Gods, Rose! It was you all along! My memories… I remembered who I was long before you, but that’s because Bad Wolf.. the energy she released between us regenerated my synapses!”

Rose shook her head. “But why just you? Why didn’t I remember as well?” she asked.

“Time Lord biology, Rose! My brain is hardier than a human’s. It didn’t take nearly as much energy to restore my memories, and even then, it had taken quite a lot. And I thought it was the power of the completed bond that had reactivated my synapses, but it had been you!” he announced, smiling widely.

She couldn’t help but smile back, releasing a little giggle of happiness at his joyful revelation. Then a thought occurred to her. “But… if you remembered, why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

He sat then and took both her hands in his. “Rose, if I’d’ve told you I was a 900 year old alien and you were my time travelling shipmate, would you have believed me?” he asked with a small knowing smile.

Allowing herself a small smile back, she conceded, “Well, no. Probably not. Still, if we, um… bonded… how come I didn’t know? Wouldn’t something have changed between us?” she asked.

The Doctor stopped, looking somewhat startled. “Well, yes… things _did_ change. Think about how you felt about me after… after we…”

“...made love?” she said softly, finishing his sentence. He gave her a look then that nearly melted her insides.

“Yeah. Made love,” he confirmed, his eyes full of memories.

She swallowed thickly as her stomach did little summersaults. She and the Doctor had made love. Well… she and _John_ had made love, she corrected herself. Harkening back to the question, she considered it. “I… I don’t really remember feeling any different,” she admitted.

He looked at her in awe. “You don’t? What about now? Now that you remember? Surely you feel differently now.”

“No. Should I?”

“Well… yes. Probably. I mean… I assumed you would. I mean… a bond makes both parties feel more strongly about each other. More protective and physically attracted. More… in love,” he posited, immediately redirecting his gaze downward.

Rose swallowed. Oh. Soooo… she had pretty much just continued feeling the exact same way she’d always felt about him. She’d always felt protective of him and god knows she’d always been attracted to him, even when he was all ears and leather. As for being more in love…

The meaning of what he’d said sunk in then and despite her frequent and lengthy self talks about how she never should expect more from him, it stung like a thousand needles. He had assumed she’d have felt differently after this bonding because _he_ felt different. Of _course_ his feelings toward her had changed from before the bond. He hadn’t felt any of those things for her before this. Now… now he was _bonded_ with her. He was essentially being _forced_ to feel those things for her.

Shame dripped through her. She’d just offered him complete proof of her love for him. _Before_ the bond. God. She wanted to crawl into a corner and hide. Now he knew. He really knew how she felt and he clearly hadn’t felt the same way before all this.

Worry and embarrassment filled her in equal parts. How were they supposed go back to how they were now that he knew she’d fancied him even without the bond? It was bad enough that they’d crashed over the friendship line as Uni Rose and John, but this was a whole other level of breach. Now he knew how _real_ Rose felt about him. There would be no going back after an admission like that, and if anyone might want to end their travels together now, it would be him. Surely he wouldn’t want to keep larking about time and space with a starry eyed earth girl mooning over him. Tears sprung to her eyes.

“Rose… I’m sorry. Maybe it doesn’t affect humans like it does Time Lords,” he apologized. “I…I just thought you…that maybe now that we’ve bonded, you might feel… Oh, never mind,” he said, sitting back suddenly, looking self consciously around the room.

“What?” Rose said, now completely flummoxed. What was he even _saying_?

“I…It’s just that, the bond amplifies feelings a Time Lord already feels, Rose. If that didn’t happen for you, that’s fine. Totally fine. I mean, it’s understandable. You have to have those feelings to begin with, otherwise there’s nothing to amplify,” he explained, looking anywhere but at her. “And I, er…I guess I’d…I mean, I’d hoped…” he trailed off.

Rose’s heart jumped. The bond amplified _existing feelings_? But…did that mean…did he…

"Anyway…I promise I’ll get rid of it,” he sniffed, quickly standing up. “I should, uh…I should let you rest,” he offered, quickly heading toward the door of her room.

“Doctor, wait,” she said urgently. “Are you…are you sayin’ that you felt that way about me before? That you fancied me even before this bond?” she asked, her heart in throat.

The Doctor stopped and turned to face her. A seeming torrent of emotion rolled in his eyes. “Rose… I shouldn’t tell you this. Especially now… now that I know how you… “ he paused, swallowing thickly. “But I can’t hold it in anymore. Before the bond I was able to hide it… how I felt about you… because I knew it was wrong. Me wanting to take you from a normal life. Selfishly wanting to keep you all to myself. But now, I’m literally unable to keep it a secret,” he admitted. 

Then, seemingly gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and said, "Rose, I almost can’t remember a time when I _didn’t_ feel this way about you,” he said, his face the clear picture of pained honesty. “You are all I thought about after I left you in London, after you turned down a chance to come with me the first time. And I tried to push thoughts of you out of my mind, Rose. I travelled for three full weeks, hopping from one disaster to another just to keep my mind busy. But in the end I had to come back. I had to ask you one more time. And if you’d’ve said no… well, let’s just say I was actually considering pleading with you,” he shared.

Rose blinked. “You… you were gone for three weeks?”

“Yup,” he assured her. “And then when you came with me I literally couldn’t believe my luck. Oh course, I tried to convince myself there was no possible way we could be together. You were so young. And human. I was old and cranky… damaged in the deepest of ways. But you put up with me. Despite even my ridiculous attempts to push you away. Even after Reinette…” he trailed off.

Memories surfaced of those dark angry days. She’d been so hurt. She’d felt like such an idiot. Loving someone who was so clearly out of her league that he’d had to remind her of the fact by snogging someone so far above her station that she got dizzy thinking how much higher in life Madame de Pompadour was above her. It was after that incident that she’d decided she needed to try to gain some perspective. He was the ‘THE DOCTOR’. She was rose tyler. Shop girl. A lowly estate born Londoner who was ridiculously lucky to have met him and to have been asked to travel with him. 

“Even after I’d been such and incredible arse, you still decided to stay with me,” he marvelled, shaking his head. “I don’t deserve what I want with you, Rose. I know that. But I honestly can’t imagine my life without you now,” he said. “And I…” his voice broke making him clear his throat of emotion before continuing, “I know you don’t feel the same way. But maybe… maybe you’ll find it in you to stay with me anyway. We can make it work. I’ll take just your friendship for the rest of my life if it means I can be with you. Having all of time and space at my fingertips means nothing if you’re not there to share it with me, Rose,” he admitted.

This time tears actually fell. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Doctor. My wonderful Doctor,” she said, a watery smile finding her features. “I’ll never leave you. And not because I’m doin’ you a favour, but because I couldn’t imagine bein’ anywhere but right here beside you. I _love_ you, you daft alien,” she grinned. “And this bond couldn’t amplify anything in me, because I couldn’t possibly feel stronger for you than I always have. I loved you with all my heart before any of this happened, Doctor,” she shared, looking deep in his eyes in an effort to convince his soul. 

“You did?” he said, his face the picture of shock.

“Of course, you plum,” she smiled.

“Oh, Rose,” he said, reverence and relief clear in his voice.

“And as far as this bond goes… do you still want it with me?” she asked with a coy smile, hoping she knew the answer now.

It was his turn to grin widely. “Oh, yes,” he answered with enthusiasm. “I can honestly say I want nothing more.”

“Well then. I can’t see any reason to get rid of it, can you?” she stated.

A full toothy smile filled his entire face with the suggestion. “None at all,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. “I love you, Rose Tyler,” he said, every pore exuding joy.

“And I love you, my Doctor,” she replied, her own incredulous happiness nearly overwhelming her. 

With that, the Doctor leaned in and took her lips with his. It was sweet and heartfelt, and everything it had been when she was Uni Rose, but even better. Now she knew how very much had led up to this moment; how many times they’d held hands and how many times they’d hugged, never sure how the other felt. Now she knew what kind of commitment was behind it. She’d just promised not only her forever, but her heart as well. And now she knew what kind of promise he was making. This kiss was just the beginning for them, and they had so much time to make up for.


	20. The Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, friends! Hopefully all questions will now have been answered and all mysteries solved. Thank-you for joining me on this journey. I truly appreciate all your thoughtful comments and support.

### The Restoration : Chapter 20 - The Beginning

Staring at his watch, Jack sighed. It was 11:15 a.m. ‘Cardiff time,’ as he liked to call his version of time keeping on the TARDIS. He’d been sitting in the galley for an hour and a half now and had already made and eaten a full English breakfast and downed three mugs of java. He was actually considering a fourth sugar infused cup when he decided he should really find someplace different to wait for his shipmates to emerge from their love shack down the hall. If he stayed in the kitchen much longer there was a good chance they’d have to roll him out of it later.

Deciding to head to the media room, he found the TARDIS had turned on the telly for him in anticipation of his arrival. “Thanks, old girl,” he said, looking up to the ceiling before plopping himself down on the couch. Scanning through a couple hundred channels, he finally settled on the Yittow porn channel and leaned back. He had to admit he was a bit intrigued. 

The show played for a good while before any action started, but much to his surprise, once it did, it turned out it had very little to do with actual sex and much more to do with carnage. It seemed Yittow foreplay basically involved the throwing of heavy items at each other until one party passed out, at which point the actual ‘sex’ part took place. Sex consisted of a quick and rough ‘mounting’ of the passed out partner by the winner of the item throwing contest. He supposed he should be thankful that the Doctor and Rose had shown up that night on Terris 9 and had offered him a ride. If that tryst with the Yittow mountain climber had actually happened he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have quite been prepared for the ensuing romantic encounter. 

His mind went back to that night and he once again marvelled at the way the universe seemed to work. He really did believe that souls, or life energies, or… whatever one wanted to call them… were intertwined with others at a level so complex that not even Time Lords understood it. For some reason, the Doctor and Rose’s lives were destined to collide with his at regular intervals and if they hadn’t collided once again that night, he’d probably be holed up in some intergallactic hospital still recovering from a Yittow tryst. Yup. It must be some cosmic fate thing. It was the only way he could explain how he managed to be travelling aboard the TARDIS again. 

Then there was the soul twinning of the two currently twinning their bodies together down the hall. If any two souls were meant to be together, it would be theirs. Rose had woken in the late afternoon yesterday and after the Doctor had allowed Jack to give her a bone crushingly relieved hug, he’d whisked her off to his room. Jack hadn’t seen them since, but really, he couldn’t have been any happier. Well, that’s not strictly true, of course. He’d have been happier if the Doctor had asked him along to join in the festivities, but he was pretty sure that was never gonna happen, so he’d be content just knowing the two of them finally opened their eyes and saw what was staring them both in the face. 

Really, it had been clear to him for a long time that those two belonged together. Of course, he’d put in his two cents with the Doctor more than once about how he needed to step up, but the Time Lord had always denied the very obvious fact that he was head over heels for his blonde companion. Well, at least it was apparently a done deal now, which was going make travelling with these two a lot easier. The sexual tension had been nearly unbearable before!

The show was still playing on the screen that he was staring at, but not really seeing, when Rose ambled into the room and plopped herself on the couch beside him. “What’cha watchin’?” she asked, nodding to the telly.

“Nothing important,” he answered before raising his voice to say, “Telly off.” The screen went dark just as a Yittow woman on the program threw a large bowl at her mate’s head. “What’s up?” he asked.

“I, uh… I just wanted to thank-you, Jack. For helping when I was stuck in that ship,” she said with a grateful smile. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she admitted.

Jack grinned knowingly. “Oh, _I_ know what you’ve been doing without me,” he said coyly, “and don’t think I haven’t noticed that I didn’t get an invitation to join in,” he waggled his eyebrows.

“Jack!” she laughed, her cheeks pinkening as she smacked him on the arm. 

He schooled his own laughter then and gave her an affectionate smile. “No, really, Rose. I’m happy for you. Both of you. I’ve been waiting years for you two to figure this out and finally you guys followed your hearts instead of your heads,” he shared.

“Yeah. Well… I guess sometimes you have to nearly lose something to realize how much you loved it in the first place,” she said wisely. 

“I guess that’s true,” he agreed.

“Listen, Jack,” Rose said, tucking a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear, “there’s something I have to tell you. About me,” she said seriously. “You see, something happened to me when the Doctor stopped the nanites,” she continued.

Jack stopped her. “It’s okay, Rose. I know. The Doctor told me,” he shared. 

“He did?” Rose asked, surprised.

“Yeah. I have to say, I was pretty amazed. Another immortal on board. At least I’m not the only one now,” he smiled.

A pained look crossed her face and Jack immediately felt badly for bringing up his altered state. She’d already apologized more than once for having accidently changing his biology to make him immortal and she didn’t need him reminding her one more time. “Well, actually, I’m not really immortal, Jack. I can still die,” she said looking decidedly guilty.

“I’m sorry, Rose, I didn’t mean…” he started.

“No, _I’m_ sorry, Jack. I forget sometimes how lonely you must’ve been at times, living so long while you watch the people you love…” she trailed off, her eyes distant and sad before she rallied and put on a brave face. “But at least now… now there’ll be three of us together for a good part of it, yeah? If I’m careful I’ll live at least as long as the Doctor, as far as he can figure,” she smiled. Then, leaning in conspiratorially, she added, “I have to admit I was a bit disappointed when I found out. Not about how long I could live, obviously, but when he first suggested I was gonna be more like him, I thought I was a time lord too. But I suppose this is the next best thing,” she admitted. 

“Oh, Rose, you wouldn’t want to be a time lord,” the Doctor’s voice interrupted them as he entered the room. “All that regenerating. It’s overrated. This way you’ll never have to live through that particular painful eventuality,” he said pointedly. “And anyway, I like that you’re still human. I love humans. I love _this_ human,” he said, sliding up behind her to wrap his arms around her waist and nuzzle his nose in her neck. Rose squirmed happily in his grasp.

“God, can you two cut it out,” Jack complained good naturedly. “ _Some_ of us haven’t gotten laid in ages and your hours of non-stop shagging is doing nothing to curb my libido,” he lamented.

Usually the Doctor would’ve admonished him for any comment straying too close to being sexual in nature, but it seemed his newfound happiness was making him more agreeable overall. “Weeellllll, maybe we can go head to Stalmor 3 next,” the Doctor offered. “If I remember right, their bars are pretty well known for their backroom activities.”

Jack perked up immediately. “Stalmor 3? Now _that_ sounds like a plan,” he agreed, jumping up and clapping his hands together. 

“But first… we have a favour to ask,” the Doctor continued.

Jack’s shoulders slumped. “I knew there would be a catch. Listen guys… I understand if you want me to leave. You need some time alone together-”

“What?! No!” Rose interjected quickly. “We don’t want you to leave, Jack! Of course not! Tell him, Doctor,” she instructed her time lord. 

The Doctor didn’t answer right away. “Doctor…” Rose warned.

“Okay, we don’t want you to leave,” he reluctantly agreed. “We actually need to ask you if you wouldn’t mind helping us get out of a jam. Weeelll… not a _current_ jam. A past jam. Jam. I love saying ‘jam’. I wonder if we have any of that treacleberry jam left,” he pondered, thoroughly distracted from his original purpose.

“Doctor… the favour?” Rose reminded him with an affectionate smile.

“Oh, right,” he blinked, looking back at Jack. “Do you remember when we first came to your flat with Chloe and we told you about all the people going missing?” 

Jack nodded, remembering the decidedly uncomfortable interaction between him and his ‘rival’ for Rose’s affections. 

“Well, we had some help sorting out where all those people went and how to find them,” the Doctor said, continuing his explanation. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a plain leather bound book. “It was all written in this book. And we’ve figured out who wrote it,” he said, aiming a pointed look in his direction.

“Who, me? _I_ wrote a book?” Jack asked, confused. “I swear, it wasn’t me,” he promised them both, looking between them. 

“Oh, it was you,” the Doctor said, broaching no argument. He passed the book over to Jack to who took it without hesitation. The cover was brown leather with no markings on it of any kind. “Very clever with the name, by the way,” the Doctor added with a lopsided smile. “Funny. I never pictured you as a frenchman, ‘Capitaine Jack Harkness de la Péninsule Boeshane’,” he said, producing the name with a flourishing, perfect parisian accent.

“But… this is impossible,” Jack said, looking up at his companions. “I don’t remember writing any book,” he said, flipping open the cover to see what name the Doctor had been referring to. To his surprise, the pages were empty. 

“That’s because you haven’t yet,” Rose said. 

“Rose found this book in the library at the uni. It had been left there by someone who knew what was going to happen and Rose read it. Without it we wouldn’t have found all those people,” the Doctor explained. 

“But, how can I write about what happened back there? I wasn’t even there for most of it,” Jack asked, still confused.

“Ah. Well that’s where you’ll get some assistance,” the Doctor supplied. “Rose is gonna help you,” he added.

Jack looked to Rose for confirmation. She nodded. “I’ll tell you everything that happened, and you can write it down anyway you like,” she offered. 

“Any way?” he asked, an idea forming.

“Within reason,” the Doctor warned.

“Always the stick in the mud,” Jack complained. But he already had an idea how he was going to do this. But first… “Doctor, did you read the entire thing? From beginning to end?” he asked. 

He wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw a fleeting smile pass over the Doctor’s lips. “Yeah. I did,” he answered, leveling a look at Jack, which he could’ve sworn held… was that actual affection?

“But… if you read the whole thing, why didn’t you just free all those people right away? Why wait?” Jack asked, confused.

“The book was written on temporal psychic paper. The TARDIS moderates when the pages will appear to the readers. You’ll write the entire thing, but Rose and I weren’t able to read it until the exact right time in the course of events. That way there’s no chance of a paradox,” the Doctor explained. 

“Soooo, it’s like invisible ink? It doesn’t show up until the TARDIS spills timey lemon juice on it?” Jack proposed with a smirk.

“Yeah… no. Not really. But yes, I suppose if you’re looking for an earth equivalent that would be it,” the Doctor replied. “Anyway, I suppose I should leave you and Rose to it then. The book writing, that is. No funny business,” his features hardened, giving Jack a very targeted warning. 

“Yes, sir!” Jack answered formally, chasing his reply with a wink, knowing it would drive the Doctor mad in his current state. If the Doctor had been a wee bit possessive of Rose’s affections before, he was downright obsessed now that they’d bonded. It was cute.

He wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard a rumbled curse come from the time lord before he turned in place and stomped out the door.

“Why do you taunt him, Jack. You know that drives him barmy,” Rose chastised lightly.

“Because he needs to be reminded how lucky he is to have you,” Jack smiled. “And _because_ it drives him barmy,” he added mischieviously.

Rose laughed, shaking her head. “Jack, honestly. It’s a wonder he hasn’t dumped you in a black hole somewhere by now,” she giggled.

“He wouldn’t dare,” Jack assured her. “He’s actually sweet on me. Not only that, but if it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t be the man he is now,” he added. 

“What do you mean?” Rose asked.

“Let’s just say he has a new favourite author. You can hardly kill your favourite author, now, can you?” he said with a smug smile.

“Jack, what are you plannin’?” Rose asked, her eyes now full of suspicion.

“Me? Nothing! Why do you ask?” he said innocently.

“Jack…” Rose said again, attempting to sound threatening.

Grinning, Jack swung around behind the desk in the corner and picked up a pen. “We should really get started, shouldn’t we? This book isn’t gonna write itself!” he smiled brightly.

Reluctantly, Rose moved to pull up a chair beside him and started talking.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

After hearing Rose’s story, it took Jack two solid weeks before he finally began work on the final chapter. This entire writing enterprise had been surprisingly difficult, and there were many times he’d wondered why the hell anyone would choose this as a career. It was tedious and at times coming up with the right words for a thought was a downright pain in the ass. Still, as much as he found it difficult, he had to admit there was something gratifying about it. Maybe it was knowing that his words were going to help save people’s lives. 

Now, sitting in the library with a tumbler of hypervodka, he stared down at the page and re-read the last passage he’d written. The story was almost finished, and the important, life saving bits were now written and out of the way. This, though… this next and last section was going to be written with an entirely different purpose in mind.

Picking up his pen, he began to write once again from Rose’s perspective. Well… mostly.

 

_My story is almost finished, but before I close, I feel I must share a basic truth. One that I feel I must communicate in order to ensure the future that is meant to be. But I will come to that in a moment._

_Thus far, my life has been far from straightforward. I’ve seen things I could never have imagined in my wildest dreams when I was younger. What he does not understand, however, is that none of that has impacted me like he has._

_When he first took my hand, I realized at that very moment that my life had changed. Of course, at the time I had no idea just how that could come about, just that it would. Oh, and it did. I saw places that mesmerized and terrified. I learned things about the universe I was both thrilled and repulsed by. I met people I revered and people I despised. But most of all, I loved Him. His passion, his intellect, and his zest for life. I saw his fire and his need for fairness. I saw all that, but I also saw his pain. The raw hurt that was housed inside that hard, confident shell. It’s what made him real to me. It’s what made me see him as a man. Of course he was still an incredible presence and a formidable power in the universe, but under that, he was still just a man. A man who needed to be cared for like any other. And I took it upon myself to do so._

_Remember how I started this chapter? I said that I had to share a basic truth before ending this tale. Well, the truth is that my feelings for him transcend all challenges and states of being. No matter what I become or what happens to me, I will be with him. Always. All I need to hear is that he wants the same and that he has wanted me and will want me no matter what. His bared soul will save us. It will act as a beacon for my own. His honesty will be my salvation. And his._

 

Jack sat for a moment, studying the final written words on the page. A contented smile formed on his lips. Yup. That seemed right. If that didn’t do it, nothing would. And apparently it _did_ , if time worked that way. 

Reaching his arms in the air, he stretched them out and arched his back, letting out a large yawn. Reading his last words one more time, he leaned forward and scrawled out the two words he felt he needed to add to draw this story to a close: The End.

Closing the book with a satisfying whump, he scribbled out a note and attached it to the cover that was now embossed with the title, ‘The Restoration’:

 

_Here you go. It’s ready for library shelves. Hope this is what you were looking for. I’m looking forward to the reviews, if you know what I mean ;) But really, I love you guys. And I love you guys together._

_All my love,  
J.H. Beauchesne_


End file.
